What Little Boys Are Made Of
by Zaknafein-DoUrden
Summary: Cloud, Zack, Rufus, and the Turks are at the heart of a startling discovery about Shinra's ties with a genetics engineering company. Someone's after Cloud and Rufus is determined to get his future back. CloudxZack, RenoxRufus.
1. A Meeting

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from FFVII. As usual, Square-Enix has hogged them all.

By the way… THIS STORY CONTAINS SHOUNEN-AI AND YAOI IN LATER CHAPTERS.

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What Little Boys Are Made Of

Chapter 1: A Meeting

It was a well-known fact that the ShinRa Electric Power Corporation was the largest company in the world. The power and money it held behind its walls of concrete and steel would have rivalled that of the combined resources of the remainder of the world, never mind any single metropolis. The company claimed to be a benefit to the world, providing power, and thus life, where others could not, and in many ways this was true. What the company often failed to mention, however, was the small matter of the death of the Planet.

For a long, long time, people had debated the effect of the company on the planet. Many people were convinced that the drain the mako reactors had on the Planet was minimal and that she would regenerate herself over time. Others, however, saw the electric company as a planet-killer, slowing draining the life from her until she would no longer be able to support the souls which lived upon her.

It was over one such debate that ShinRa was now at war with the continent to the west, Wutai, and a First Class Soldier who simply went by the name Zack was now sulking in an unusual melancholy fashion in the ShinRa common cafeteria.

Zack had never been particularly averse to a good romp on the battlefield, but this was an especially bad week for such a thing. He had just ordered a new entertainment system from the electronics company at the other end of the Plate, and they had said that they would have the order customized and ready to ship in a week and a half. With free installation, nonetheless. And here he was, suddenly scheduled to leave for Wutai in a measly eight days. Life really sucked sometimes.

Picking at the food on his segmented steel tray, he vaguely wondered if the supposedly nutrient-rich grey mush located there was actually edible. ShinRa was, of course, using this amorphous food-like substance as a substitute for actual food only because it cost less and was apparently packed full of essential vitamins and minerals. Obviously, whoever had come to the decision to force low-cost healthy eating upon them had not factored in whether or not the Soldiers would actually eat the stuff. Zack would have kept prodding at it, entirely expecting it to come to life at any moment, if something else hadn't caught his attention instead.

It seemed that the new recruits that had come in only a half week ago were on their lunch break from training, as evinced by the tired, shuffling way in which they filed into the cafeteria. It hadn't taken the black-haired First Class Soldier long to determine that they were a rather pitiful bunch. Comprised mainly of small-town boys with big dreams, it was nonetheless true that they were all incredibly young. In previous years when ShinRa had recruited, the boys had mainly been older, usually late teens to early twenties, but now that the electric company had used up all of that particular resource, they had opened their doors to boys who seemed like they had barely reached puberty.

These kids… some of their faces still possessed the soft roundedness of childhood, their muscles and bones still developing and growing. Zack felt like he'd be able to snap one in half if he so much as accidentally bumped into one. One boy in particular looked especially unfit for such a profession, considering the fact that when he'd accidentally stepped on one of his older classmate's shoes, the owner of those shoes had flat-out knocked him onto his ass with nothing more than a half-hearted shove.

The other Soldiers in the cafeteria quickly quelled any ensuing hostility on the older boy's part, and the little one, a blue-eyed blonde kid, scampered back to his place in line, looking rather like he wanted to curl up in a corner and die somewhere. Which might just happen if he ate any of the food that was currently being slopped onto his tray.

Zack watched him for a bit as the boy looked around, trying to find a free spot to sit amongst his classmates, but every time he found one, he was either roughly pushed aside by a larger boy, or the boys surrounding said free spot slid over to make it considerably less free. God, young boys sure could be assholes before they learned the meaning of "fair play."

"Hoi, kiddo," Zack called, gesturing for the blonde to come over. He watched as said blonde gestured to himself with his free hand, silently asking if the Soldier was really talking to him, and then looked around to make sure that there was no one behind him that might have been the recipient of the call instead. "Yeah, you. C'mere."

The black-haired man grinned as he watched the recruit shuffle over timidly, head lowered as if he thought he were in for a scolding. With another gesture, Zack managed to make him take the seat across from him, and then he leaned forward toward the boy, pushing his own tray to the side as he did so.

"How old are you, kiddo?" he asked, his voice betraying some of his Gongagan accent. Most of the women thought it sounded "sexy," but when he spoke with his fellow Soldiers, it, along with the untamed mess that was his hair, was often the butt of many playful jibes. Some of his comrades had even taken to calling him the "Redneck Hedgehog." He'd promptly punched them in the face. They'd promptly stopped calling him that.

"Sixteen," the blue-eyed boy replied quietly. To Zack's request to repeat that, he cleared his throat and raised his voice a bit. "Sixteen, sir."

The Soldier laughed, the rich sound filled the room, causing a few people to look over. "Really? You look younger than that. Like, twelve, or something." Seeing that his comment had not sat well with the younger man, who was looking somewhat offended, he waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "Hey, hey, I was just kidding, okay? What's your name, anyway, kiddo?"

The blonde had begun to prod at his food nervously, not having had a chance yet to become accustomed to speaking directly with superior officers. "Strife, sir."

For some reason, Zack found that extremely ironic. Although he didn't have a lot of time to read, he still knew the definition of the word "strife," and the kid sitting before him really didn't look like the type to be putting up any kind of a fight over anything. "And your first name?"

The boy moved his eyes from the sludge-filled tray up to the darker blue of Zack's. "It's Cloud, sir."

"Cloud, eh? That's a good name," the First Classman responded with a warm grin. "And you can stop with the 'sir' stuff. I'm not into that rank and domination stuff …unless the regular ranks try to top me in bed," he added with a playful wink, his smile widening.

Cloud's entire face turned a bright shade of red that clashed horribly with the platinum blonde of his hair and the medium blue of the uniform that the regulars wore, and Zack got the impression that the boy had never had any of those immature friends that liked to tell naughty jokes.

"…I was just playing, kiddo," he said blandly, trying not to outwardly give the impression that Cloud had to be gullible to the point of retardation to believe that he was being serious. He was about to ask what Cloud was staring at him like that for when he realized that the boy wasn't staring at him, but just to the side and behind.

"At least you claim you were," a voice suddenly drawled from right beside Zack's ear, causing the black-haired Soldier to instinctually connect his elbow to what was likely a chin with enough force to cause a resounding crack. It was soon followed by the sound of a body falling over a table, hitting the floor, and then letting out a colourful string of inventive curses. "Holy FUCK, Zack!"

"Oh, it's just you, Reno," Zack responded, having turned about in his seat and poked his head over the back of it to see who had startled him. "What are you doing here?" he asked with no regard for whether or not the red-haired man was going to live or not. Reno was tough, anyway. He'd be fine. The Turk had survived the last six times he'd done it, so this one shouldn't be any different.

The fiery Turk picked himself off the floor, ignoring the stares of the others in the cafeteria, and brushed himself off as if nothing had happened. Of course, the fall had done nothing to improve his normally messy appearance, but that was to be expected considering Reno wasn't considered the most… Well, one could say that he times he made his superiors proud of his behaviour were few and far between. He was effective in his own way, though, and that was probably what mattered most, considering that Turks weren't often in the public eye anyway.

"Here on business, yo," he commented as he smoothed some of the larger wrinkles in his navy suit. His two agile hands lazily found their way to his forehead where they adjusted the goggles sitting just under the bright red strands he called hair. "I'm supposed to tell you who you're being bunked up with."

Ah, that's right. Zack remembered now. With all the new recruits coming in, ShinRa didn't have enough beds for them all, so over the past few days the First Class Soldiers' nice suites had been intruded upon by a second bed that was supposed to be filled by the end of the week. However, as Zack had understood it, he and the other First Classmen had first dibs on who they wanted to bunk with. The spiky-haired man had already asked one of his fighting buddies to bunk with him, and arrangements had been made to move his friend in with him tomorrow afternoon. "I've already picked someone, Reno. You can't just tell me who's going live in my place."

"The hell I can't. It's orders from the higher-ups, Zack, so it's not my decision to make." Pulling a mangled piece of paper from his pocket, Reno looked at it, reading something on its crumpled form. "Here. Says the guy's name on it, but I wasn't given a physical description," he said, handing Zack the messily-folded item. Then, with a mischievous smile and a wink to the boy who had been sitting quietly across from Zack the entire time, Reno sauntered out of the cafeteria, swiping someone's unattended sandwich on the way.

"Who was that?" Cloud ventured quietly, seemingly in an attempt to not further irritate the already agitated Soldier.

Zack let out a sigh and turned himself back around in his seat before seeming to acknowledge the question. "Oh, that guy? That was Reno, a member of a group called the Turks. You've probably heard of them." He shrugged. "They mostly specialize in doing ShinRa's dirty work for them. Espionage, assassinations, that sort of thing. Apparently, 'messenger boy' has been added to that list," he added in an unimpressed tone as he looked down at the folded paper still clutched in his hand.

Cloud seemed as if he'd heard of them, as his eyes widened slightly at the mention of the Turks, and he had whipped his head around in the direction that Reno had left in. "Um. I should probably go now. Thanks for your company though, si—Zack." His cheeks flushed a bit as he had narrowly avoided calling his superior 'sir' again, and he picked up his tray and its uneaten contents. Stepping away from the table, he hurried nervously out of the cafeteria, depositing his tray on a cart as he went.

Zack couldn't help but chuckle at the kid's antics. Cloud was obviously the shy type, but he'd lose that sooner or later if he kept working for ShinRa. It was a shame, really. Turning his attention back to the piece of paper, he unfolded it and read the name written there. Then he read it again. And then a third time, just to make sure that his eyes weren't deceiving him.

Apparently he'd be seeing Cloud again a lot sooner than he'd expected.

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Note: I'll be revising and completely rewriting the three chapters that follow this. And then I'll probably write a new chapter or two. :3 Look forward to it!

Oh! And please leave me a review!


	2. An Unexpected Arrangement

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from FFVII. As usual, Square-Enix has hogged them all.

By the way… THIS STORY CONTAINS SHOUNEN-AI AND YAOI.

**What Little Boys Are Made Of**

Chapter 2: Unexpected News

Mornings on the Plate tended to be green. Not because of lawns or vegetation of any sort, nor because of the walls of tinted glass. It was green in the morning because the sun was not yet strong enough to burn through the noxious haze of gaseous mako residue that had stagnated in the breezeless night. It was a wonder that anyone over the age of sixty could stand to live in the city without having their lungs burned and scarred by the constant bombardment of pollution, and it was equally a wonder that the children still played outside despite the risk to their tiny bodies.

The unclean light filtered its way up to even the highest floors of the ShinRa tower, oozing its way through the windows to shine the sickly emerald upon the pristine, white form of Rufus ShinRa. The Vice President of ShinRa Corp., it was said that Rufus was even more feared than his father, and that the blue-eyed blonde-haired devil would one day strike his father down and claim the throne of power. Then the world would end, they said, in fire and ruin because Rufus ShinRa would rule through terror and an iron fist.

Rufus had never liked gossipers.

He was of the opinion that most of the fear people felt toward him was mainly due to the respect he commanded from the Turks, the special division of the company that, in addition to acting as temporary bodyguards in especially dangerous situations, were responsible for assassinations, kidnappings, espionage, and various types of "accidents." Although many people had never seen the faces of the Turks, they had heard stories from a friend of a friend who had once caught a glimpse of what he thought may have been one on a rooftop of some forgotten building.

It was Tseng's idea, really. Control the people by making them fear what they did not know. Rufus thought it was brilliant, and it reminded him of something he had read in a book. Bentham's Panopticon, it was called, and it had modified the way people could be manipulated. Bentham had stated that, since people changed their behaviour dramatically when they thought they were being observed, the uncertainty of whether or not one was being watched could be used to constantly control the behaviour of people. In a prison structure based upon this idea, for example, a single tower in the middle of a circle of cells could be used to observe all the inmates at one time. If the glass at the top of the tower was made so that the inmates could not see into it, but the guards could see out, the prisoners would have to automatically assume that they were being watched, whether they were or not, and thus modify their behaviour.

Absolutely brilliant.

In practice, this meant that people, therefore, automatically assumed that wherever Rufus went, the Turks went with him, even if they could not be seen. Thus, the fear of the Turks had translated into a fear of Rufus himself, and was only amplified by the stony countenance and frigid personality that he possessed. But it couldn't be said that Rufus was not a man to be feared. His calculating intelligence and low tolerance for ineptitude in the boardroom had stunned a good many people who had not met him previously. It was probably because he was still a few months yet from his eighteenth birthday.

Despite the fact that, since he wasn't even legally considered an adult, any documents he signed would not be binding, his father had him constantly at his desk on the sixty-eighth floor doing just that. Rufus assumed that it was to keep him from having enough time to plot the destruction of the world, or his father's death, or some other equally superficial thing.

Even though he was only fourteen when he'd been promoted to vice presidency, he had quickly realized that whether or not he'd actually read and signed the papers was unimportant. Through experimentation, he'd discovered that if he signed the top three documents and put the stack in his outbox, no one noticed that he hadn't signed the rest.

Rufus had made sure to employ that particular tactic today, as he had more important matters to attend to other than sifting through employee files for people that might cause him trouble when he inherited his father's company. In place of where the stack of documents should have been sat a pile of CDs instead, each labelled with a date and a section within the ShinRa building. They were copies of the security tapes, and the blonde Vice President was scanning each one studiously.

Ah, there he was. Cloud Strife, the new recruit who had joined ShinRa only a week ago. Normally, Rufus would have no interest in an underdeveloped child, but his interest had been piqued by the interest of someone else. Namely, Hojo.

At first, Rufus hadn't been aware that it was Hojo, and so three days ago, when Reno had reported that President ShinRa had asked him to deliver a particular message to one of the First Class Soldiers regarding rooming arrangements, Rufus hadn't paid particular attention. However, when Hojo--the greasy-haired, hunched-over, exceedingly-angular scientist himself--had waltzed into his office while the President was on a business trip in Junon and asked for a favour, Rufus decided to take more of an interest in things.

Pretending to be bored with the entire transaction, Rufus had blandly acquiesced and written another note for Reno to deliver, then sent the scientist back to his lab with assurances that it would be sent off immediately. Reno had not been happy with having to be a messenger boy again, but a simple glare had cleared his reluctance right up.

Since that event, which had been a good twelve hours ago, Rufus had been sitting at his desk, going through the security tapes in an attempt to determine what was so special about Cloud Strife. The boy was not exceptional in any way, it seemed. He was short for his age, and certainly wasn't the strongest or fastest in his class. He learned at a pretty good pace, though, but that was hardly any reason for special treatment.

What _was_ unusual, however, was the figure that tended to appear in the background whenever Strife was outside doing his training with the other recruits. Rufus hadn't even noticed the man for the first nine hours that he had been watching the tapes. It had taken a random glance up to the corner of the screen combined with a small flash of sun reflecting off metal for him to even notice the well-concealed man. Even then, the blonde had had to rewind it three times before he was even able to determine that it was a person, and not some random piece of garbage stuck in the hedges.

The glimpse of the man hadn't been enough to identify him, so Rufus had come to the unfortunate conclusion that he needed to rewatch the tapes in the hopes of getting a look at the man's face somewhere along the way. That had been three hours ago, and it had taken him until just two minutes prior to find what he was looking for: a minor misstep that had caused the man to show his face for a split second longer than he had intended.

Rewinding, Rufus waited for the exact moment, then paused the tape and zoomed in. Long, black hair framed a pale face and green eyes, but the face wasn't one that Rufus recognized, and doing a search of the company's database didn't turn up any information, either. This man was obviously not affiliated with ShinRa, so what connection he had with Strife was beyond Rufus' ability to speculate.

Pulling out his light grey cell phone, Rufus held it up to his laptop's monitor and snapped a picture of the face. As his dextrous fingers punched buttons in the familiar pattern of Reno's phone number, he glanced at the clock and suspected that the redhead would hate him. It was 5:23 a.m. on a Tuesday morning.

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Despite sleep's miraculous ability to make one forget one's troubles, Zack hadn't forgotten about the letter sitting on his nightstand. He hadn't minded having Cloud moving in with him, since the kid seemed like he needed a friend anyway, and for the past couple days at least, he'd been doing an admirable job of keeping the place clean and his superior fed.

Forcing rooming arrangements upon a First Class Soldier like Zack was one thing, but when Reno had given him another message last night, the redhead had had to forcefully stop him from going up to the Vice President's office and ripping the blonde's head off.

It wasn't having Cloud assigned to his squadron that had made him angry, despite the fact that the boy wasn't even close to being ready for such a thing, it was the fact that his particular squadron was heading off to war in four days and probably wouldn't be coming back for more than a month or two.

Was the Vice President out of his _mind_? Was this some sort of sick game he was playing with people's lives? Cloud wouldn't be ready to fight on the battlefield for another few months yet, and Zack sure as hell wasn't going to sit around and let the kid become food for the worms.

"Zack?" asked the questioning voice from not five feet away where Cloud's bed was located. The youth had probably just woken up, as he was still rubbing sleep from those large, blue eyes and had a hairstyle that would rival a chocobo's. "What's going on? You look angry."

"It's nothing, kiddo," the black-haired man reassured him, his usual grin appearing on his face. "Don't worry about it. I've just got to go report to the General, that's all. I swear that guy has no respect for people who like their mornings in the afternoon." Standing up from his perch on the bed, having already gotten dressed and tamed his hair as best he could, Zack gave Cloud a wink and a mock salute. "Work hard in your training today, Soldier!" Then he was gone, the door closing behind him with an unexpected sense of finality, leaving the blonde-haired youth staring confusedly after him.


	3. A Rustling in the Bushes

Disclaimer: Same as previous chapters.

**What Little Boys Are Made Of**

Chapter 3: A Rustling in the Bushes

That evening, Zack was still vaguely agitated about the results of his talk with Sephiroth. He had hoped that the General would be able to resolve the issue of a new recruit going to war, but the silver-haired man had kept reminding Zack that the order had come from the Vice President, and although he was the General, Rufus still ranked above him. Sephiroth had agreed, however, that the situation was highly unusual, and that having someone like Strife in the war would be more detrimental than anything, so he had written a small note for Zack to take with him when he went to see Rufus.

And see Rufus he did.

"I don't see what you're so upset about, Zack," Rufus replied, cold, ice-blue eyes fixed upon the defiant, dark blue of the older man's. The blonde sat comfortably behind his desk, arms folded in front of him as he watched the First-Class Soldier make a feeble attempt at self-restraint.

Zack narrowed his eyes, completely ignoring the forms of the two Turks standing stoically behind him in case he should attempt anything stupid, and moved close enough to the cherrywood desk that he could lean forward on it in an intimidating manner. It had no effect whatsoever on the white-clad Ice Prince. "I think you know what bothers me about it. He's a new recruit, and he sure as hell isn't ready to go out there. Sending him out there is a sure-fire way to get him killed before his next birthday."

A blonde eyebrow arched. "I fail to see how that concerns me. The order didn't come from me, it came from my father," he smoothly lied. Technically, if his father had been here at the time Hojo had requested his assistance, it was very likely that it _would _have come from his father, and thus Rufus truthfully would have had no say in it whatsoever. "If you have a problem, take it up with him. He'll be back in, oh," a glance was spared at his desktop calendar, "a week. And since you're due to be shipped off before then, it seems like you're right out of luck."

"Well, fuck you very much, Rufus," the Soldier replied icily, pushing his way past Reno and Rude, and slamming the door shut behind him with almost enough force to crack the wood.

There was only one solution left: hardcore, trial-by-fire, no-holds-barred, Zack-style training.

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"C'mon, kiddo," the First Class Soldier said, motioning with his hand for Cloud to follow him into the large, low-cut grassy field. This particular field was somewhat removed from ShinRa grounds, and was used for off-duty training. To quell the public's sentiment that they didn't want to see men hacking at each other with swords, ShinRa Corp. had planted a series of trees and bushes around the perimeter of the chain link fence that successfully served as a visual wall. Even the gates located on each side of the rectangular field were wrapped in vines. Nothing could really be done about the sound, but since most of the buildings around this area were commercial, it didn't matter so much. "Looks like we've got it to ourselves tonight. What've you learned so far about combat?"

As the blonde followed his superior officer into the field, he looked up at Zack. "I took the basic classes that everyone did at the Academy." The ShinRa Military Academy, which trained and tested all recruits, offered basic courses in marksmanship, sword fighting, and materia usage, but not much else. At least it was a start.

The black-haired man tapped his finger against his chin, then gave Cloud a thumbs-up. "Hey, whatever, kiddo. I'll teach you a helluva lot more than those idiots at the Academy, anyway. Since you're going to be fighting people with swords, we should probably start you off with basic blocking techniques."

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"If I didn't know that the kid's older than he looks, I'd say their teacher-student relationship was kind of pedophilic," the red-headed Turk remarked, waving his hand in an absentminded manner. "It makes _me_ almost feel like a pedophile just watching them, hey, partner?"

Rude simply replied with an uninterested grunt, his gaze focused on the trees surrounding the perimeter of the training field. The two of them had scampered up into a tree on the southeast corner, which was close enough to watch the two Soldiers, but far enough away that they wouldn't be easily heard or seen. It was sort of unfortunate for Rude, considering that this meant Reno could babble all he wanted. Not that he didn't incessantly chatter regardless.

"See anything yet?" Reno asked, his eyes scanning the areas closer to them while Rude watched the other side of the field with a pair of binoculars he had been prudent enough to bring. Seeing the bald man shake his head in reply, Reno came down the few branches to where his partner was sitting. "It's still way too early to say that the guy isn't going to show up, but the VP seems to think there's a good chance he'll be wherever Cloud is."

Giving a "hn" of agreement, Rude mostly ignored his partner as he carefully examined a tree across the way. Had there been movement? Sure enough, careful observation allowed him to pick out the form of a cloaked man in the tree. "He's here," he monotoned, before handing the binoculars to the redhead and indicating where he should look.

"Well, I'll be damned," Reno replied, letting out a low whistle. "So the boss isn't hallucinating. Didn't actually think the guy'd show up, to be honest." Pulling the binoculars up to his eyes, he peered through them, green eyes scanning the foliage across the training field from them.

There was movement, and then sunlight glinting off something reflective. A tube of some sort.

"—The hell?" Reno asked of himself, confused. "What the hell's the guy gonna do with a measly little blowdart? If he's planning on killing the squirt, you'd think he'd do it with something more conventional."

A grunt from the redhead's partner voiced his dissent. "A drug, perhaps, and not a poison," Rude rumbled, shifting slightly in order to keep his balance on the branch upon which he was perched. It creaked in protest, earning disgruntled glances from both Turks.

Ignoring it for the moment, Reno went back to looking through the binoculars. "Damn. Looks like he really wants to use the thing." Handing them back to Rude, who promptly folded them as tightly as they would go and stuck them in his pocket, Reno lightly slipped out of the tree, silent as a cat. Surprisingly, his larger, bulkier partner didn't make much more noise.

Skirting the outside of the field, mindful of any vines or leaves that they might rub against, the two Turks quietly crept the distance of the training area. Stopping just before rounding the corner, and totally ignoring the questioning looks of the odd passers-by across the street, the redhead poked his head around the corner, quickly locating the man dressed in black. Pulling back, he nodded at Rude, then made a series of rather vague hand motions that could either have meant "I'll climb up there after him, and you get him when he comes down" or "you run like a sissy, you lumbering jackass." Rude nodded.

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Within no time, Zack had Cloud parrying, dodging, and counter-attacking with some sort of proficiency. The kid was a quick learner, and he'd quickly discovered that trying to head-on block one of Zack's heavier blows was a bit too much for his frame, so deflecting had proven to be a better tactic for him.

"Wow, kiddo," Zack praised with a grin, not the slightest bit out of breath, "you're pretty quick with this stuff, aren't you? You just good with dexterity, or are you smart in the head, too?" The taller Soldier shouldered his gigantic Buster blade with ease, making Cloud stare at him with incredulousness and a hint of awe.

"Well, I did pretty well on the oral and written exams, I guess," the youth admitted, turning his gaze to the ground with a measure of modesty. A congratulatory pat on his shoulder made him look up and give a small smile. Bringing his arm up to wipe the beads of sweat off his forehead, he suddenly frowned. "I appreciate the fact that you're training me, Zack… Really, I do, but I'd just like to know… why?"

Oh, shit. He'd forgotten to mention that little tidbit in his haste. A black-gloved hand immediately went to the back of his head, scratching timidly. "Well, kiddo…" Bright blue eyes stared up at him, much like those of a curious puppy's, causing Zack to wince. "You're going to war."

"What." Stunned silence filled the field.

"You're going to war," the black-haired man repeated, slower this time. "Courtesy of President Shin-Ra."

"War," Cloud repeated, the word almost sounding foreign to him.

Zack nodded, feeling the need to helpfully add, "With Wutai."

"Those men with the curved blades and throwing stars that they showed us in the demonstration video?" The question was tentative.

"Thousands of 'em."

Melancholy. "I'm going to die, aren't I?"

"Hey, hey! You are _not_ going to die," Zack said, his eyebrows furrowing and lips forming a frown. Admittedly, this wasn't fair to Cloud, but he'd already tried his best to change it and come out empty-handed. "Why do you think I'm training you? We're going to stay in this field and practice until you can handle your own."

When he received nothing but silence back from the blonde, Zack let out a sigh, stuck his Buster blade into the ground and moved closer to the shorter boy. Bending down until he was eye level with the other, he set his hands on Cloud's shoulders and put on a gentle, reassuring smile. "I swear to Bahamut and all that is holy, I'll protect you kiddo. I swear."

Just as Cloud was about to give his response, they both turned to the sudden sound of tree branches snapping and a loud, foul-mouthed expletive, followed by a distinctive, "GET HIM!"

"…..…Reno?"


	4. The Threat of a Loss

Disclaimer: Same as previous chapters.

**What Little Boys Are Made Of**

Chapter 4: The Threat of a Loss

His dexterity was incredible.

Rude watched, mouth hanging open, as the cloaked figure completely back flipped over Reno, planting his hand on the redhead's face for balance, and landed gracefully on the ground, leaving the Turk teetering unsuccessfully for balance on the branch. It didn't help that the man was insanely speedy, either.

Taking off after him, Rude willed himself to move as quickly as his bulky frame would allow, and skidded around the next corner just in time to see the shady man run into an alley across the street. The Turk pulled out his handgun as he continued his pursuit, darting across the street and pressing himself against the wall of a store before peeking quickly around the corner.

No sign of the man whatsoever. And then a flash of red recklessly ran past him, completely leaving Rude behind. Apparently, Reno had recovered from landing on his head.

"C'mon, buddy!" Reno cried to his exasperated partner as he bolted down the alley, stopping as soon as he reached the street on the other side. A quick glance to his right caught the trailing bit of a cloak before it headed down another alley, and the Turk took off once more, this time trailed closely by Rude. Determined, the two Turks rounded the corner into the alleyway at breakneck speed, guns in hand.

Suddenly, their visions were filled with blinding white and a powerful force slammed itself into their upper bodies, causing both Turks to hit the cement hard, winding the both of them. Although dazed, Rude was the first to recover the air that had been forced out of his lungs, and he looked up, ready to find their attacker waiting there to kill them.

"Sheets," Rude sputtered.

A groan came from his right. "You can say that again."

"What? No. Sheets," the bald man reiterated, grabbing Reno's shoulder and directing him to the sight above them. They'd been clotheslined by sheets. Pristine, white linens that billowed almost apologetically in the wind.

A heavy silence spread between the two of them as they lay there on the alleyway floor, sunglasses askew and suits rumpled. Reno finally looked over at his partner, a cocky grin spread across his shameless face, finding this whole thing funny even though it really wasn't. "Hey, at least it wasn't underwear." Rude punched him in the shoulder.

"I hate you."

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--------------------

Zack blinked, unsure of just what had occurred, then looked down at Cloud. The blonde was obviously just as confused as he was, but more comically so; eyes wide and mouth hanging open. "Hey, kiddo, stay here," the black-haired Soldier instructed, patting the younger man gently on the shoulder and grabbing his Buster sword. "I'll be back in a minute."

Leaving the blonde behind, Zack quickly made his way to the gate at the other end of the field, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. He was sure that he'd heard Reno's voice and seen figures flittering past the slots in the fence, but where the Turk had gone was a mystery.

It wasn't long before his unvoiced question was answered, however, as Reno and Rude came sauntering out of an alley moments later. A black eyebrow arched. "Reno, what the hell is going on here?"

"Eh?" The redhead fixed his gaze upon the familiar figure of the Soldier and he moseyed on over. "Hey, Hedgehog. We were just chasing after some hot chick that Rude really likes. Unfortunately, she kicked him in the groin and got away. You know how it is." Gloved hands combed through unruly red hair before locking behind his head, weight shifting onto one leg and head tilting slightly to the side. The ultimate display of nonchalance.

"Right," Zack sarcastically agreed, rolling his eyes. "Really, Reno. What's going on?" He crossed his arms over his chest, giving the redhead a look that suggested vast amounts of pain if the Turk avoided his question again.

The fiery Turk spread a grin across his face, not at all afraid of the silent threat. "We almost had her, too. You'd have liked her, yo; hour glass figure, long hair, huge breasts. D cup, at the very least." He brought his hands down in front of his chest, simulating the shape of those particular female appendages, earning a cuff upside his head from his silent partner. Reno glared.

"I'm not in the mood for playing your mind games, Reno," Zack warned, voice approaching a growl.

"I'd rather play mind games with you than piss off Rufus, honestly. I like my job. It pays well, has great dental, and I get to go drinking with a big bald guy on the weekends." Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Reno slipped past Zack, Rude in tow. "Although you should probably keep a better eye on your girlfriend." Green eyes gestured toward the waiting blonde in the training field. "Don't want her leaving you unexpectedly." With that, the Turks were off, Reno already laughing and chatting inanely with Rude, who merely grunted in reply, shaking his head at his partner's antics.

The black-haired Soldier turned, gazing back through the fence at Cloud, suddenly very concerned for the boy's future. _Leaving me unexpectedly?_

What the hell were those damned Turks up to?


	5. Intrusion

Disclaimer: Same as previous chapters.

**What Little Boys Are Made Of**

Chapter 5: Intrusion

Over the years, Rufus had snuck into his father's office for several reasons. As a toddler, he'd done it to ward off the loneliness that had come with the death of his mother. As a child, he'd done it since it was the last place the Turks would look for him. As an early adolescent, he'd done it out of rebellion. And now, as he was approaching adulthood, he was doing it for information.

Possessing no real respect for his father's belongings, emotions, or person (and, indeed, the father felt the same toward the son), Rufus almost felt it his right to inform himself of the various underhanded goings-ons in Shin-Ra.

After getting the report of failure to apprehend from Reno and Rude, the blonde had taken it upon himself to find out more. Without telling any of the Turks, he waited in the building until nightfall, pretending to be catching up on paperwork, and then simply walked down the hall and entered his father's locked office through the use of a credit card. It was laughably easy.

The mahogany-colored leather chair dwarfed the blonde as he sat himself down in it, uttering a groaning creak of protest. Had Rufus not been sure that there was no one in the building, he might have winced, but he simply made a mental note to supply the maintenance staff with some WD-40 and a short letter.

Hacking onto the Old Man's computer wasn't difficult, either. Rufus had figured out the password when he was 12, just because it was something fun to do. Fear, however, had kept him from searching his father's computer freely back then. Being that the President was a large, burly, sturdy man, there had been no doubt in young Rufus' mind that, with their size difference, a righteous beating would have left him in a coma.

There was none of that fear present now, though, and the blonde's fingers quickly typed in the authorization code. The only problem was going to be finding the information that he wanted. Rufus decided it was best to start with the basics.

Opening up a search in his father's files, he typed in a single word: Strife.

27 entries popped up, ranging from medical records to a recruitment list to Cloud's biography. None of that interested him as much as those files that were located in a folder titled "HERON." A blonde eyebrow arched, and he opened the entirety of the folder, blue eyes quickly skimming the contents.

"Interesting," he murmured to himself, slipping a blank DVD from his coat pocket into the burner tray. To be thorough, he selected all the search entries that had come up on Strife and transferred them onto the DVD, waiting patiently for the burner to finish.

1... 9 ….. 17...

_That Heron folder must contain a lot of information,_ Rufus mused. _It's taking quite a long time._ Leaning back in the chair, Rufus settled back to wait, hands folded comfortably in his lap and head tilted back. Just as his eyes drifted closed, they snapped open once again at the sound of something that should not be.

Footsteps. Heading toward the office.

With a silent curse, Rufus hurriedly shut down the burning process, ejecting the DVD, and bolting for the exit onto the patio. Just before the door closed behind him with a soft click, he heard the doors to the office open, and the sound of voices. Not looking back, he ran the length of the deck, crouched low so as not to be seen through the window, and pressed himself against the far banister, heart pounding in his ears.

Biting his lower lip, his mind raced, trying to think of where he could hide. The patio was bare, however, and jumping was not an option, considering he was approximately 70 stories in the air. The only other option was to climb the building itself. The blonde looked up, steeled his resolve, and stood.

Rufus grabbed onto one of the ornamental ledges above and gingerly climbed atop the thick railing. The wind whipped around him, billowing his white overcoat and threatening to send him tumbling nearly one thousand feet to his death, but the Vice President was not deterred. If he were caught here, it was likely that his life would be in danger, and he wasn't ready to die just yet.

Slipping his foot around the corner of the building and gripping onto the small ledge for dear life, he slowly inched around the corner, freezing as another blast of wind ripped through. Managing to fully side himself around to the other side of the tower, he licked his lips, trying to ignore the rushing, reeling feeling in his head.

Another few inches in as many seconds, and he realized that his current progress would not get him out of harm's way should whoever was in the room venture out onto the patio and look around the corner. In his rush, he wasn't fully prepared when the small ledge beneath him crumbled under his weight, and he pitched forward.

Arms reaching desperately for something to latch onto, he managed to catch hold of a smaller ledge about ten feet lower than where he'd originally been. Regardless, that was ten feet closer to death than Rufus wanted to be. Struggling, he mustered all the strength in his arms that he could, slowly pulling himself up.

"You're sure you shut down your computer?" came a low voice from above, and Rufus stilled, eyes snapping up to the patio above him.

Another voice, his father's this time, replied. "Yes, you idiot. Don't _ever _question me again." A muttered apology floated to Rufus on the wind, but then the breeze switched directions, picking up force, and he couldn't hear the rest.

Unable to determine the location of the people above him, and unable to move without alerting them, Rufus hung from the ledge, arms burning and fingers slowly losing their grip. As he shifted himself to restore circulation to his arms and improve his hold, his feet bumped up against the window below him. …A window? His lower half was pressed against a window?

Not hearing any more noise from above, Rufus made a silent prayer that the men had gone, and gave a forceful kick to the glass below him, effectively shattering it. He quickly dropped onto the windowsill, pitching forward and tumbling onto the glass that had fallen onto the floor.

The gun that was pressed to his head, however, would dictate that he had fallen out of the frying pan and into the fire.

"You can't be that intelligent if you're stupid enough to break into my room," a smooth, male voice intoned. The soft _click _of a lamp could be heard, and the blonde was temporarily blinded, a hand coming up to shield his eyes. A long bout of silence followed the illumination of the situation, and the voice finally spoke again, incredulous. "Sir?"

Blue eyes blinked, still adjusting, and then lifted to gaze upon the other. A relieved smile slowly spread onto his pale features, and he casually brushed some of the glass off his leggings before standing and regarding the other more evenly. "Good evening, Tseng. I hope you don't mind the intrusion."


	6. Alliances

Disclaimer: Same as previous chapters.

**What Little Boys Are Made Of**

Chapter 6: Alliances

Days Until War: 5

"Rufus, what are you doing coming through my window at one o'clock in the morning?" Tseng asked, studying the Vice President before him. Obviously, the blonde had been latched onto the exterior of the building, a very dangerous act in itself, but he'd likely been doing something even more dangerous to feel the need to pull a stunt like that.

The corner of the blonde's lip twitched up in a smirk as he thought of what to say. He didn't precisely want to tell the leader of the Turks that he'd just broke into his father's room, hacked onto his computer, and stole a bunch of files that were likely supposed to be confidential. Sure, Tseng acted as his bodyguard on occasion, and could be classified as a friend, but it wasn't exactly like Rufus signed the man's cheques. "I was out for a midnight stroll and thought I'd drop in."

"With all due respect, sir, that's not funny." The Wutanese man met the blonde's remark with a steely visage that bordered on rage. "May I remind you that part of our job description involves protecting you and your father? How, precisely, do you expect us to uphold that end when you deliberately put yourself into dangerous situations without even notifying us?"

Even if Rufus were blind, the man's tone alone would have provided enough evidence that Tseng was livid. Professional, but still madder than hell. "Who are you to criticize me, Tseng? If I had told you, you'd never have let me do it." Rufus snorted indignantly as he stared down the Turk, who suddenly seemed to not be fully paying attention anymore. "Besides, if I'd have asked you," the blonde continued, stepping out of the way as the Turk quickly moved behind him, forcefully pulling the curtains shut and moving his area rug over the shattered glass on the floor, "you'd never have done it, so I… What are you doing?" Rufus' tirade was interrupted as Tseng grabbed him by the shoulders, ushered him into the bathroom, and pushed him against the wall. Suddenly very aware of how close the Turk was, the blonde moved to protest, but was hushed.

"Stay here and be quiet." Closing the door behind him, Tseng left a very confused Rufus in the dark of the bathroom.

Good timing was very important for a Turk's career, and Tseng certainly had it in abundance. Only seconds after he shut the Vice President safely away, a pounding knock sounded at his door. Padding over quietly, the Wutanese man pulled the door open, greeting the portly man before him with a respectful nod of his head. "Sir, aren't you supposed to be in Junon?"

Ignoring the question entirely, President Shin-Ra displayed his annoyance with a scowl and a dismissive wave of his hand. "Don't patronize me with your bullshit, Tseng. Someone was on my computer tonight." He watched the Turk's eyebrows rise faintly, and then continued. "Where's Rufus? He's not in his room."

Tseng replied quickly, without hesitation, and without batting an eyelash. "I was informed that he was going to be spending the night at his residence on Lumbar Street, sir. He left shortly after six o'clock this evening. Would you like me to retrieve him?"

"Immediately," the President barked. "Find him and bring him to me!" President Shin-Ra stomped off, then, the fury in his steps almost tangible. He would have killed Rufus if he'd found the blonde there, that much was certain. What had Rufus gotten himself into?

First things first, though…

Opening the door to the bathroom, Tseng flicked on the light and fixed Rufus with the same gaze that had brought hardened criminals to their knees. "Once I get you out of this building, you are going to tell me everything that happened. If you lie, I will know, and if you refuse, I will be forced to hand you over to your father. Understood?"

Rufus met that intimidating gaze with more valiance than most, and gave a single, curt nod. "But where will we go?"

"The only place we can right now: Reno's house."

--------------------

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Reno grumbled as he peeled himself off his couch, groping around for something to wear as he yelled at the person incessantly knocking on his door, "I'm fuckin' _coming_! Hold your damn horses!" By the time he'd reached the door, he'd plucked his handgun off the dining table and pulled on a pair of jeans. "What the hell do you want?" the redhead gritted out as he pulled open the door, but the last part of the question died on his lips. "Tseng?" Bending to the side, he observed the blonde behind the Wutanese man. "Rufus?"

"Move, Reno," Tseng said, stepping past the half-naked redhead and flicking on a light. Reno's house wasn't as messy as one might have predicted. Sure, there were a few beer cans strewn about in random places, a couple dirty socks on the floor, and a half-eaten pizza sitting out on the coffee table, but for the most part, it was presentable.

"I'm impressed," the blonde remarked as he moved inside the house, purposefully avoiding the sight of Reno's bare upper torso. "Seems like your house doesn't take after your wardrobe, after all."

"Har har. You're a riot, boss. Now, I don't recall inviting you guys for a sleepover, yo, so what's going on?" Reno asked, suddenly becoming serious. Tseng didn't make house calls for no reason, so whatever it was, it had to be important. And with Rufus tagging along, it was probably doubly so.

"Rufus hacked onto his father's computer and stole some confidential documents," Tseng tersely explained, obviously still displeased about the whole thing. He gave the blonde another look, but Rufus had already turned away and headed to make himself comfortable on the couch.

"Way to land knee-deep in a shit pile, boss," Reno congratulated, slapping the Vice President on the shoulder. "How'd you get in? Hair pin? Paperclip?"

"Credit card, actually," the blonde clarified, settling himself against the arm, and tilting his head back to watch the redhead.

"Really? Heh. Didn't think most people knew that actually wo—"

"Reno. Don't encourage him." Tseng rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing. "He partially burned this DVD, so our first priority should be to find out what's on it. Where's your laptop?" he asked, inquiring about the company-supplied laptop that all Turks were required to own. Turks dealt with encrypted data all the time, so getting information off a half-burned disc wouldn't take too terribly long.

The redhead escorted the leader of the Turks into another room, where his laptop sat, charging. Typing in his password, Reno turned the computer toward the other Turk before retrieving a chair from the kitchen so his superior could sit. "It's not safe for Rufus at headquarters anymore, is it?" he asked cautiously, his voice low.

"No, it's not," the black-haired man replied, popping the DVD into the drive.

"What are we going to do with him, yo? We're not going to bring him back there, are we?" Admittedly, the Turks' first loyalty was supposed to be to the President, and not to his son, but Reno didn't know of a man among them wouldn't save Rufus over his father if given a choice.

Tseng sighed once more, shaking his head. "I'm thinking that depends on what's in these files. Go keep an eye on him, and make sure he gets some sleep. I'll tell you if I've found anything."

Nodding, the fiery Turk turned, silently returning to the Vice President's side. "Hey, Rufus," he began, but stopped short as his eyes found the figure of the blonde. Rufus had his eyes closed and head tilted back, hair falling away from his face and his breathing was slow, even, and calm. It was suddenly hard to believe that Rufus was 17 now that the weight of the world had lifted from his shoulders and he lay in peaceful slumber.

Quietly gathering the blanket bunched at the foot of the couch, Reno tenderly spread it over the white-clad figure. "Good night, boss," he said with a smile, and turned out the lights.

--------------------

--------------------

"The Turks are hiding something from us, Seph," Zack said, trying another tactic to win Sephiroth over to his side. "And it might be something that could prove detrimental during the war. I mean, think about it. Why would Shin-Ra want a newbie like Cloud out on a battlefield like that?" The black-haired Soldier sat himself down on the General's couch in a huff, his knee bouncing with agitation and a cross between a glare and a pout plastered on his face.

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow, his arms folded loosely as he leaned against the off-white walls of his suite. "The Turks hide things from everyone, Zachary. Don't think that they're giving you special treatment," the tall man remarked, green eyes studying the man on his couch, as if Zack were the patient and he the therapist. "I've already written you a recommendation. What more do you want?"

"Come with me and talk to Rufus, then," the First Class Soldier pleaded, trying his best puppy face on the immovable will that was Sephiroth. "Please? We can't just let them send Cloud off to war like that. The kid's not ready."

"I recall you telling me that Rufus said the order came from his father," Sephiroth reminded him, somehow managing to possess the patience of a saint despite the persistence of the Soldier before him. "It won't make a difference if I go with you or not; Rufus can't rescind his father's orders."

Straightening, Sephiroth moved away from the wall and headed toward the man on his couch, grabbing one of the chairs from his dinner table on the way. Setting the chair in front of Zack, back facing the man, the General sat himself down upon it and crossed his arms atop the back. Green eyes stared seriously into blue for a moment, before he spoke again. "Why do you want to help Cloud so much?" he asked, his voice sounding more like he was interrogating a terrorist than one of his few friends.

Zack, to his credit, did not look away, nor did he blink. He stared right back at Sephiroth, a bit of defiance shining in his blue orbs. "If you met the kid, you'd want to help him, too, Seph. There's just something about him that says, 'I'm a good kid despite the fucked up world I live in.' I don't want him to lose that."

Green eyes narrowed for a moment, studying Zack's face intently, and then Sephiroth got up and headed for his door without saying a word.

Zack blinked, jumping up from the couch and rushing after his companion. "H-hey! Wait, Seph! Where're you going?"

"To talk to Rufus. He should be arriving at his office shortly. You," he said, pointing at the other man, "might want to talk to Tseng. If Reno wouldn't tell you anything, you might be able to work out some sort of understanding with him."

The black-haired Soldier was silent for a moment, before he offered the General a warm smile. "I owe you one."

"You still owe me lunch from last time, Zachary," was Sephiroth's only remark before he turned and tread purposefully down the hallway, silver hair swaying as he walked.

"That's not my fault! You never tell me your schedule!" Zack called after his retreating friend, a smile still upon his face. Of all the years he'd known the man, Sephiroth had yet to let him down when he really needed him. It was nice having someone dependable on the battlefield, and even more so at home. "Thanks, Seph," he murmured quietly, before closing the door to the General's room and heading the opposite way down the hall.

He had a blonde to collect and a Turk to find.


	7. Missing Persons

Disclaimer: Same as previous chapters.

**What Little Boys Are Made Of**

Chapter 7: Missing Persons

Days Until War: 4

"So we're going to meet with the leader of the Turks?" the blonde asked, somewhat meekly. Even without having the benefit of mako enhancement, Tseng was a more formidable foe than most of the First-Class Soldiers. It was that combination of ruthless calculation, unwavering sense of duty, and cat-like agility that made him the bane of Midgar's existence. If a man so much as uttered the word "rebellion," or "assassination," or "spy," his name was liable to appear on some otherwise unmarked piece of paper slid under some unidentifiable door in the Investigation Division of the General Affairs Department, and then he would undoubtedly disappear shortly after. Such was the role of the Turks, and Tseng stood tall as their leader.

"You afraid?" Zack asked, a smug smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he debated whether or not to tease his younger companion. Deciding against it despite his mischievous nature, he settled his hand on Cloud's shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. "Hey, it's not that bad. Tseng's not out to kill us since we're Soldiers, right? Right. The guy's not that bad, and neither are the Turks."

Cloud wasn't entirely convinced. "If you say so." As far as the blonde was concerned, they may as well have been going to see Sephiroth himself. Held on a pedestal high above everyone else, Sephiroth and the Turks were located in the section of Cloud's reasoning reserved primarily for people falling into the category of "Avoid at All Costs to Prevent Immediate Death." Other entities in that same area were President Shin-Ra, Scarlet, and the Midgar Zolom.

Zack flashed a disarming grin at Cloud before he turned that same grin upon the secretary of the General Affairs Department. "Hello there," he said, leaning over the desk just enough to read the nametag on the woman's chest, "Delilah. Perhaps you could help us out? My friend and I need to talk with Tseng. It's sort of a matter of importance, so if you could­—"

"He's not available," the thirty-something brunette replied, her stern visage making it clear that she didn't get a position in the General Affairs Department because she fell for the wiles of every cute boy who came along. "And you can't see him without an appointment, anyway."

Zack's smile faltered somewhat, but to his credit, he didn't lose it entirely. His instincts told him to try another tactic. "I can see that you're a woman who is very dedicated to her job. It's kind of reassuring to know that there are women out there who are just as beautiful as they are intelligent." The Soldier's smile went from boyish to flirtatious in the blink of an eye. "What would I have to do to get such an outstanding lady to book an appointment for my friend and I?" he asked, gesturing to the blonde beside him. Surely, if this Old Bat didn't warm up to him, then she'd be taken in by the pure ball of innocent fluff that was Cloud.

The woman's gaze did not shift from the First-Class Soldier, her scowl even more obvious. "Nothing. There isn't anything of any importance that someone like you would have to talk to Tseng about."

"Oh, c'mon! Give me a break!" Zack whined, his pride and ego wounded.

From the sidelines, Cloud shook his head, eyebrows pushing together in what might have been a look of pity for Zack's plight, or shame that he even knew the man in the first place. That lady wasn't going to budge no matter how hard Zack tried to win her over with his charm. Even Cloud, despite all his obliviousness, was not ignorant of that fact. His attention on the conversation between the Soldier and the secretary was interrupted, however, when a large hand suddenly clamped down on his shoulder. He didn't even have time to think before his body reacted, spinning him around and launching the tip of his steel-toed boot directly into the shin of the bald man before him. Grunting, his attacker backed away a few steps, raising one hand in surrender before bending to rub at his bruised shin.

"Rude, buddy!" Zack exclaimed, having turned around to see what the commotion was all about. "Man, Cloud, you really nailed him, didn't you?" the Soldier asked with a laugh while the blonde in question simply looked mortified and stuttered apologies. Moving forward, he sidled right up beside Rude, nudging him lightly with his elbow. "So, Rude, what say you to helping out a friend, hmm? Could you get us in to see Tseng?"

The bald man straightened once more, shaking his head. Seemingly impervious to Zack's abnormally friendly nature, he lifted his wide shoulders in a shrug and straightened his sunglasses. "Can't find him." Walking away from Zack, Rude pulled a sheet of paper from a pocket inside his suit and handed it to Delilah, then started heading past the secretary's desk and down the hall.

"Hey! Wait!" Zack called, grabbing Cloud's wrist and running after Rude despite the protests from the Old Bat. "What do you mean you 'can't find him'?" he asked incredulously. One doesn't exactly misplace one's boss. Especially when that boss is a Turk.

The monotone reply came without a slowing in Rude's stride. "He didn't show up for work today. Neither did Reno." Pulling his cardkey out of his pocket, the Turk moved to open the door to his office, but found the card reader promptly blocked by a tanned hand. Turning his head slightly, he stared down at the shorter Soldier, one eyebrow raised in a questioning manner.

"Where does Reno live?" Zack asked, staring at the bald man expectantly. As soon as he saw that no immediate reply was forthcoming, he clarified. "If Tseng's not in the building, and Reno's not in the building, and no one's told you where they've gone, chances are that Reno's done something stupid and gotten himself put on house arrest. Either that or he somehow managed to get Tseng blitzed and hauled the poor bastard back to his pad for some mind-blowing sex." The Soldier grinned as the Turk grimaced at that last thought, hints of mortification passing briefly across his features. Cloud had turned red enough to make a tomato jealous.

"Just tell me where Reno lives and I'll make sure that he's not done anything incredibly stupid."

Rude sighed, sure that his partner would kill him for this later, but he acquiesced nonetheless, if only for the sake of getting Zack out of his hair. Besides, Reno probably could use someone to check up on him now and then. "1845 Water Street West."

"Thanks, Rude! I'll be sure to buy you lunch sometime!" Without further ado, Zack was off once more with a blushing Cloud in tow, confident that he was soon about to get to the bottom of this whole thing. Hopefully the missing Tseng would be with the missing Reno, considering that it was probably unusual for one of them, never mind both, to miss work.

Rude watched the two men depart and then finally stepped into his office, wondering briefly how long it would take Zack figure out that the house numbers on Water Street ended at 1720.

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Sephiroth was at a loss.

Rufus wasn't in his office, wasn't in the lounge, wasn't in the cafeteria, and wasn't answering his cell phone. A brief interrogation of his secretary had revealed that he'd not been in at all that morning and hadn't even phoned in sick.

It was certainly turning out to be a troublesome endeavour, and the silver-haired General found himself starting to regret his decision to help his black-haired friend. Indeed, the situation with Cloud was curious, and he could somewhat understand the man's concern for the blonde, but he really couldn't afford to spend the entire day trying to track down the Vice President. Turning the corner on the 68th floor, Sephiroth was startled to see none other than President Shin-Ra walking down the hallway toward him, followed by no less than six Soldiers.

Wasn't he supposed to be in Junon on a business trip for the next five or six days?

"You're just who I wanted to see, Sephiroth," the portly man ground out, visibly agitated. "I want you to find Rufus, and bring him to me. Drop whatever else it is that you're doing and make this your priority. Deploy as many troops as you have to: I want him found, and I want him found _now_." Pushing past Sephiroth, the President stomped his way down the hall, the Soldiers hurrying after him.

"Troops?" the General asked as the man made his way past him. "Are troops really necessary?" Surely sending someone to Rufus' house to collect him would be sufficient. "This task would be better suited to the Turks, don't you think?"

A flush of anger came to the stout man's cheeks, and he whirled to face Sephiroth. "I don't pay you to question my orders! Find Rufus immediately or you can count yourself as being unemployed," President Shin-Ra growled, his tone final. Rounding the corner, he and the men following him were soon out of sight, leaving a very confused and suspicious Sephiroth in his wake.

What, exactly, could Rufus have done that would make him go into hiding and make his father want to find him so badly? There was no love lost between father and son, so whatever it was likely involved an act of treachery. And was it possible that this incident and Cloud were linked?

There were a lot of questions that needed answering, and the answers would be with Rufus.


	8. Discoveries

Disclaimer: Same as previous chapters.

**What Little Boys Are Made Of**

Chapter 8: Discoveries

Days Until War: 4

The interior of the Shin-Ra office was dark, the windows on the back wall entirely blacked out by the deep crimson curtains. Only the inadequate light from a desktop lamp illuminated the richly-decorated room, causing shadows to stretch ominously across the floor and walls, reaching their black fingers toward unseen victims. Even the innocent potted plant in the corner took on a sickly demeanor, looking more like a skeletal frame than the beautiful fern it was.

In the darkest of the shadows, a figure stirred, barely visible in the dim light and not made any more so by the black, draping clothing it wore. It moved like a wraith, silently gliding across the soft, carpeted floor with nary a whisper to mark its presence.

Aware of this movement, President Shin-Ra finally spoke, the angles of his face casting unflattering shadows in the light, making him seem grotesque and deformed. "So you call me back here only to make me wait?" he grumbled, eyes narrowing at the figure. Seeing no response forthcoming, he continued. "What's so important, damn it? If you called me back from Junon for nothing…" He left the sentence hanging, figuring that the implied threat would be enough. It was often more effective to let the imagination do the talking, since it came up with far worse scenarios than reality would allow.

A "tsk" came from the darkness, and the figure leaned its slender form against the wall. "If anything, I'm not the one you should be worried about. It seems it's a good thing that you came back when you did." The voice was low, distinctly belonging to that of a male, and lightly accented. "It seems your son has become troublesome in your absence. A curious one, he is, and intelligent to boot. You'd best find him, Shin-Ra." Quiet, breathy chuckling filled the silent room, mocking the other man with its irreverent nature.

"Never you mind that," the President spat, agitated, and folded his large hands on his desk. "I have people looking for him as we speak. You are _going _to tell me why I'm here, or you can get the hell out of my office and forget any future funding from Shin-Ra." President Shin-Ra's voice had taken on a haughty tone. He did not like being challenged in his own domain, and he would assert his superiority, even in idle threats.

"You couldn't, even if you wanted to. We both know that," the shadowy man replied, a hint of a smirk in his voice. "Regardless, I have something you should see. The results of the last test are particularly impressive. Hojo is quite excited."

The President leaned forward, interest now apparent on his features. "Is Lucrecia still doing her own thing? And what of the results from Sephiroth? Will the other specimens be ready before the war?"

"One question at a time, please," the figure said, moving away from the wall to inspect a barely-visible picture across the room. The texture of the paint was incredible, even though his eyes could not pick out the details. "Hojo will soon be commandeering Lucrecia's specimen for his own use. She has fiddled around long enough, and her result is not of use to us." Slender fingers trailed along a cluster of bits of raised paint which must have represented a tree or shrub. "Sephiroth's cells show an unusual reaction when put near Jenova cells. It could pose a problem in the future, but for now he is stable. As for the other specimens, you already know that Cloud is still on the loose. Perhaps Zack was not such a good choice on your part? That man has taken a shining to our toy and will refuse to let go when the time comes. The Turks are proving troublesome, as well."

"If he's not activated before the war, he'll prove useless. Stop making excuses, Lucien, and finish the task. It's not my fault if your own incompetence is hindering your plans." Blue eyes watched the figure across the room, trying to judge the other man's attitude and intentions. Lucien's calculating nature and lack of fear for Shin-Ra's authority was somewhat worrisome, but the man had proven his worth a hundred times over. "You have four days left."

The President couldn't suppress his small gasp of surprise when a pale fist suddenly slammed into his desk with enough force to crack the wood. The speed with which Lucien had crossed the room had been incredible, and President Shin-Ra forced himself to swallow the fear that had threatened to rise in his throat.

"Watch your words, Mr. President, for it is _you_ who should mind his incompetence. You had best get your son under control by tomorrow, or I will be forced to take care of him myself. It is your actions, not mine, that have put this operation under threat, and I will not tolerate blundering idiocy and hypocritical insults from the likes of you. You know not the slightest bit of what we truly do, and, truth be told, we don't even need you alive to get your money." Offering a curt smile, the figure calmly straightened and walked out the door, shutting it softly behind him.

The President let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and watched the door slide shut. It had suddenly become even more apparent that Lucien was a very dangerous man.

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"Shit, shit, shit!" Zack cursed again for good measure as he stood at the end Water Street, facing an elementary school smack in the middle of where the street _should_ have continued, but didn't. They'd spent the better part of an hour touring up and down the street, searching for a house that didn't exist. "Rude, you lying piece of cow crap!" His blue eyes glared balefully at the small house to his right, number 1720, as if it were the cause of all suffering in the world. Crossing his arms in a huff, he stomped his foot and pouted, becoming the spitting image of a fussing two-year-old. Cloud couldn't help but smile.

"Well, it could be worse, Zack," the blonde helpfully supplied from where he stood beside the taller man, watching the children playing in the schoolyard. He was really quite fond of children—the ones that behaved at least. Cloud doubted that _anyone_ liked snotty, mean children that kicked people in the shin and stole their ice cream. Sometimes being short wasn't the greatest thing in the world. "We could have been given an address somewhere in the slums. Or been sent to a house that belonged to someone really mean. Or been given a street that didn't exist. At least this way, we know for sure that Reno doesn't live here without having to go knocking on some random person's door."

The First-Class Soldier stared at his blonde friend for a minute, looking mildly amused. "You've had bad experiences in the past with this sort of thing, haven't you, kiddo?" Zack asked, a grin on his face once more. "But yeah, okay, I get the point. It could have been worse. The only down side to this is that we won't be able to find Reno's house at this rate." Sighing, the black-haired man headed back toward his motorcycle, hands laced behind his head. "Guess it's for the best. I'm kind of hungry, anyway."

"Me, too," Cloud agreed, seating himself behind Zack and shifting around so that the navy, standard-issue Soldier pants weren't bunching in uncomfortable places. "Any idea on where to eat? I'm not really familiar with this area." He settled his hands on Zack's shoulders, in preparation for what he liked to call "take-off."

Revving the engine, Zack glanced back at Cloud before shrugging. "Might as well make the trip out to Mickey D's. It's cheap, it's quick, and will cure any constipation you may or may not have."

Cloud's groan at his partner's choice of words was quickly drowned out by the engine as the motorcycle roared to life and shot down the street with enough g-force to emulate mach three. Fearing for his life for the second time that day, the blonde leaned forward, wrapping his arms about Zack's waist and pressing his face to the man's back for safety, eyes squeezed shut.

Zack just grinned.

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Rufus slowly opened his eyes, quickly coming to the realization that he was not in his own room. Nor was he in his office, or any other familiar space. As the events of the previous night came rushing back to him, however, panic subsided into relief, and he pushed himself to sit upright on the couch. His neck was a bit sore from the awkward way he had been sleeping, and his shoulder muscles were tense, but it wasn't anything a bit of stretching wouldn't cure.

He stilled, listening for the sounds of the house's other occupants, but heard nothing. A frown creased his pale features, and he stood, only to have his foot catch on something and send him crashing down onto the coffee table… that was no longer there. Strangely, during the night, the coffee table had come to be replaced by a certain redheaded Turk, upon which he was now awkwardly sprawled.

"Good morning to you, too, boss," came Reno's sleepy reply to the sudden invasion of his personal bubble. "Didn't know you were up for a romp in the hay this early in the morning. Tseng probably wouldn't like it much, though. You know how he is about inter-office relations." A charming, lopsided grin was offered to Rufus, but the blonde put on a sour face, quickly scrambling off the Turk beneath him.

"Oh, don't flatter yourself," Rufus scoffed, ignoring the slight heat in his cheeks. "It's your own damn fault for sleeping on the floor. Did your sense of foresight not scream out to you, 'Gee, Rufus might not see me sleeping here'?" he asked, letting out a huff. Glaring down at the Turk on the floor, he resisted the urge not to kick the form that was now laughing at him. "What? Why are you laughing at me?" he asked, now visibly agitated. First Reno had the gall to deliberately sleep in a place where he would trip on him, and now the redhead was laughing at him?

Holding his hands up in a submissive posture, Reno made a half-assed attempt at stifling his laughter. "Sorry, boss, but your 'righteous anger' looks kinda funny from down here when you've got bedhead like crazy, yo. I'll lend you my comb." Picking himself up off the floor, the redhead gave a mighty stretch and yawned before padding off to the bathroom, Rufus in tow.

"Mind the ankle-biter," Reno noted as they rounded a decorative plant stand that had strange, curly flares at the bottom. "If you're not careful, it'll get you good. I should know. Rude can testify, too, although I think it gets him more in the foot than the ankle. Fuckin' tall guy."

Raising his eyebrow at Reno's inane babble, Rufus nonetheless skirted around the plant stand and followed his host into the mid-sized bathroom. It was strangely clean; there were a few spots on the mirror, a couple red hairs around the sink, and the toilet seat was left up, but for the most part, it was spotless. "You're not home much, are you?" Rufus' tone made the question into a statement.

"It's that obvious, eh?" the redhead replied with a grin, eyes shining with mischief. "Can't fool the Great Rufus, yo." Plucking a comb from the counter, he cleaned it out with unnecessary ceremony and then handed it to Rufus with a flourish. "Your comb, my liege."

Rolling his eyes, the blonde snatched the comb from Reno's hand and turned toward the mirror. The sight of his hair in complete disarray made him cringe, and he immediately went to attacking his strawberry blonde locks with the comb, attempting to tame them into some semblance of order. In the mirror, he could see Reno circle around behind him, heading towards the toilet, unzipping his pants, and—

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Rufus asked, somewhat alarmed.

Reno paused, his fly halfway down. "Takin' a leak. What else?" He blinked, not understanding what the issue was. It was his house, and he'd take a piss in the toilet if he wanted to.

The blonde was aghast. "Not while I'm in here, you're not. Now get out and hold it until I'm done."

"But I gotta pee!" Reno whined, putting on his best pouting face. In response, however, all he got was a glare and a finger pointing to the door. Officially banished from his own bathroom, he slinked out, slouching against the wall outside and doing a fairly good rendition of the Potty Dance while he was at it.

A smirk creeping across his face, Rufus deliberately slowed his progress, pulling the comb through his hair with infuriating sluggishness, all the while watching the redhead in the mirror. Every few seconds, Reno would plead with him to "hurry up" or ask him why he couldn't brush his hair like a normal person.

Finally cleaning out the comb, he set it back onto the counter, and moved toward the door. Before Reno could even think about squeezing past him into the bathroom, though, the blonde shut the door in his face, locking it firmly. Reno wasn't the only one that had to use the washroom, after all.

"Hey, c'mon, boss! That's just cruel! What if I damage some sort of sphincter because of this and end up like those old guys who dribble all over the damn place?" the redhead whined, listening to the sound of Rufus celebrating an empty bladder. "I'm gonna end up pissing on my own feet if you don't let me in there soon!"

After another minute or two of tortuous running water, Rufus finally opened the door and sauntered out as if nothing happened. "I'm going see if Tseng has found anything on the disk. I'm also hungry, so if you could make some breakfast when you're done, that would be great." Ignoring the look the redhead was giving him, Rufus padded away, already on the search for the Wutanese Turk. Reno, meanwhile, was flying into the bathroom, promptly followed by a long sigh of relief.

Tseng was sitting in what appeared to be classified as an "office" just off the hallway past the kitchen, and he looked up briefly when Rufus stuck his head around the corner. "Good morning, Rufus. I've recovered some of the files from the disc you burned, and I have to say that I'm somewhat… disgruntled."

"Oh?" the blonde asked, tilting his head to the side and walking further into the room, mindful of the cords on the floor. "What have you got thus far, Tseng?" Manoeuvring himself around behind the Wutanese man, he peered over his shoulder, watching the LCD intently.

"It seems that Heron is a company founded by your uncle roughly twenty years ago. They deal in genetic alteration and mutation, mainly starting with young children," the Turk explained, browsing through the folder and opening various documents. Most of them were reports on findings, some were financial information, and some were about the progress the company had made. "Heron's main project right now is something called Deepground. Financial records show that money has been directed toward the building of a facility in Midgar. Seems like it was more recently completed, since the last billing date was November last year, but I'm not aware of any such structures within the city. However, as its name suggests, it may very well be under the ground, invisible to everyone."

The Turk turned to glance briefly at Rufus, continuing once the blonde nodded his understanding. "These children that they alter… It seems that the main goal of this company is to make superhuman warriors, far beyond that of Soldier. From some of these reports, I get the feeling that they're pretty close to succeeding, too. There is more than one type of specimen, as well. Heron also has those that they consider 'unactivated'; those that need a concentrated injection of mako to unleash their potential. Most of these they leave to lead normal lives until such a time as they are needed."

"Cloud," Rufus breathed, pieces already snapping together in his mind. "It would make sense that Cloud would be one of their specimens, since Reno and Rude reported seeing that suspicious man following him even while he was with Zack. It's possible that they're trying to activate him for use in the war."

Tseng nodded. "Precisely what I was thinking, sir."

"Wow, that's gotta be one hell of a lifestyle change," Reno remarked from his spot leaning against the doorway. "So if that kid's one of their specimens, what'll happen if we let that dude in black get 'im?"

"I'm not certain," Tseng replied, shaking his head. "I'll have to work on completing more of these documents, although I'm not sure how much more I can get, considering how much data was actually written."

"Is it safe to say that you're not going to turn me in to my father, Tseng?" the blonde asked, eyebrow raised and an I-told-you-so tone to his voice.

"Yes, Rufus. It would be safe to say that. However, it would also be safe to say that if your father finds you, you will be in danger. It's likely that he's also got Soldier on your trail, so from now on, you're not to make calls to anyone outside of the Turks, use your credit cards, or go out in public without us. Is that clear?" Black eyes bored into blue, making sure that the rules he laid down would be obeyed without question.

Nodding, Rufus readily agreed. He certainly didn't want to be found until he got to the bottom of this and could ensure his own safety. But for now, there was another pressing matter to attend to. "Reno. Get breakfast while Tseng and I work on this."

"No can do, boss. All I've got in the fridge is beer and cheese." The redhead gave a sheepish grin. "Seein' as how you're so insistent, though, I'll run out and grab something. Feel like anything in particular? No? Alright, I'll be back in a jiffy, then." Stuffing his hands in his pockets, the Turk sauntered out of the doorway, heading for the garage. Mickey D's wasn't too far from where he lived, anyway.


	9. Spying and Kidnapping

Iiiiiiit's the Second Part! This is the part of the story where Zak replies to some of the reviews he's received!

First of all, I'd like to thank all of you wonderful people who have taken the time to review my story thus far. It makes all the difference, really. You guys are the only reason I write, so make sure you leave a comment!

And now for my replies

Kazuhiko: I'll do my best to keep my promise. xD You just uphold your end of the bargain, 'kay? And you're starting to get your Sephiroth now, too.

Fallen-Yuki: ...I love you, too! xD You keep reviewing, I'll keep writing!

Kirril: I like it when people keep reviewing, too, hint hint. xD

Firehedgehog: You're quite correct. In the original FFVII story, Cloud was not part of the Deepground tests. I took some liberty with that, since it fits nicely with the story. Don't you judge me. xD

platinum-OneWingedAngel: Thanks for your review, but my French roommate and I are still puzzling over what the hell you're trying to say! xD "avouir campinion?" Perhaps you meant one of these alternatives:  
1. "Avoir un champignon!"  
2. "Au revoir, champion!"  
3. "À voir ça pignon!"  
Or 4. "Avion au capitaine!"?  
:3 I'm sure it's one of those, but it gave me a good laugh regardless. Thanks for leaving such an unintentionally challenging review. I love you, and so does my roommate.

And, last but not least, to Toons: You're quite right. Deepground is from Dirge of Cerberus. And only some children were chosen for experimentation. Specifically, those that were considered "untainted."

Again, thanks to all who reviewed. You guys are a writer's lifeblood. Now! On to the story.

Disclaimer: Same as previous chapters.

**What Little Boys Are Made Of**

Chapter 9: Spying and Kidnapping

Days Until War: 4

Staring at the three First-Class Soldiers in front of him, Sephiroth couldn't help but feel slightly… gypped. His most dependable Soldiers were off on holiday before the war, and these three were recently promoted. Their leadership abilities had yet to be fully tested, and it was likely that the cadets they enlisted for this particular task would be sorely abused and overworked. Well, it wasn't really _his _problem; he wasn't in charge of all promotions, but it _was _rather irritating when he couldn't trust his troops not to get each other killed.

With a stifled sigh, he dismissed two of the three Soldiers, holding the last back. The boy looked at him with a puzzled expression, the question of "why?" written clearly in his eyes.

"Dante, I need you to do something else," Sephiroth said, pacing to the back of the meeting room and plucking a black duffle bag off the desk. Returning to the much shorter, black-haired boy, the General handed him the bag and watched with a raised eyebrow as the Soldier nearly dropped it on the floor.

"Wow. It's kind of heavy. What's inside?" Dante asked, blinking down at the black bag, then looking back up at the silver-haired man. It was almost comical how much taller Sephiroth was than him, but it just served to heighten the amount of respect Dante held for the man.

Sitting on the edge of the meeting room's table, Sephiroth gestured at the duffle bag with a black-gloved hand. "A few small cameras," the General explained, while really not explaining anything at all. When Dante stared at him expectantly and the silence became awkward, he elaborated. "You're smaller than the rest of the First-Class Soldiers," he began, a flick of his wrist indicating that it shouldn't be taken as an insult. "You can fit where they can't. Namely, into the ventilation ducts."

Dante's eyebrows shot up, his eyes going wide. "Sir… If I'm interpreting this correctly, are you suggesting that I'll be planting these cameras somewhere in the ducts? In places that probably ought not to be surveyed?"

Sephiroth chuckled, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Precisely, Dante. Can you guess where I want these cameras to be placed?" Green eyes watched the First-Class Soldier, giving the younger man the impression that Sephiroth was studying him in the same way that a falcon might a mouse.

Dante licked his lips. "Given that I doubt you're the type to be a Peeping Tom, I think the ladies' washroom is right out. My next guess is…" he paused for a moment, if only to utter a silent prayer that his guess wasn't correct, and then continued, "the President's office?"

"Well, well," Sephiroth remarked, standing up from his seat on the table and placing one hand on his hip. "Seems like there's some hope for the ranks of Soldier yet. Congratulations, Dante. You've just earned yourself the title of Chief Executive Janitor. Now get up into those ducts before someone sees you toting about that bag like a death sentence."

The General ushered the somewhat indignant young man out the door, closing it behind him and letting out a sigh. So many things were happening all at once, and the General was sure they were all related. Rufus' sudden disappearance, his father's uncharacteristic need to find him, the events involving Cloud, and Zack's extended trip to the Investigation Division of the General Affairs Department. It certainly shouldn't have taken the black-haired man that long to find Tseng, and it was highly unlikely that the Turk had stepped out of the office for lunch.

Not only that, but if Tseng had been out on a mission, then Zack should have returned by now, so either something had happened to the spiky-haired Soldier or the Turks had sent him out on a wild goose chase. Then again, perhaps Tseng had become annoyed and outright killed him. Zack's impressive ability to irritate had been thoroughly proven before, after all.

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"You know, for being a Wutanese restaurant, Mickey D's is actually pretty good," Zack mused as he concentrated on wolfing down his chocobo chow mein with a speed and ferocity that would make a vacuum jealous. A piece of noodle landed on his ribbed turtleneck, and he looked at it with disdain before plucking it off the deep navy fabric and sticking it into his mouth. He promptly ignored the look Cloud was giving him.

With an exasperated sigh, the blonde slid his napkin out from under his unused chopsticks and gently rubbed it against a bit of sauce on Zack's cheek. "It also seems like it's a good way to make a mess of yourself. They invented napkins for a reason, you know," Cloud remarked, his brows furrowing together as he watched the other man eat. The speed at which Zack could eat using those damnable sticks was almost horrifying, and it did nothing for Cloud's own appetite. Staring down at his plate, he picked up a piece of steamed broccoli with his equally-damnable plastic, short-pronged fork and chewed upon it distractedly.

The First-Class Soldier grinned. "Napkins were invented so that people like me could make pigs of themselves and then get doted upon by cute blondes. Just like how washing machines were invented so that people had extra reason to take off their clothing."

If that wasn't the most skewed view of the world that Cloud had ever heard, then he didn't know what was. A blush immediately and shamelessly plastered itself across the entirety of Cloud's heart-shaped face, turning it completely red and making the blonde wish that he could slink under the table and die. The blonde's food was suddenly getting more attention than it ever had before, and Cloud's fork hastily plucked a pork ball from his plate and popped it into his mouth. He chewed on the poor wad of meat ferociously until there was almost no need for the process of digestion, and the particles were practically small enough to absorb straight into his bloodstream.

Zack watched, fascinated. "You ever thought about getting a part-time job as a garburator? Or a paper shredder? I betcha you could make a fortune doing something like tha—Ow!" the black-haired Soldier yelped as Cloud's steel-toed boot connected solidly with his shin. Whining, and yet still managing to laugh at the same time, Zack leaned to the side, rubbing his bruising appendage. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" One hand was held up in an apologetic fashion, the lopsided smile on his face doing nothing to convince Cloud. "I'll behave. I swear."

"Soldier's honor?" Cloud asked skeptically, blue eyes looking up at the taller man from underneath his bangs.

"Soldier's honor!" Zack straightened, giving Cloud a salute.

"Get a room, yo," said a familiar voice, as a particular redheaded Turk sauntered over, two bags of take-out hanging from his left hand. His right lifted, adjusting the goggles sitting upon his head, and then clamped down upon the blonde's shoulder in an all-too-friendly manner. "Just the people I was looking for. What a coincidence!" A lazy smile spread across his features, causing the tattoos on his cheeks to rise slightly.

Cloud looked up at Reno, somewhat suspicious of the hand on his shoulder, and then glanced over at Zack with a "help me!" expression written on his face. Zack was already in the process of doing just that.

The black-haired Soldier glared at the Turk, suddenly not in the mood for friendly banter. "What do you want, Reno? If you're looking for us, that means business, and it's rarely a good thing to be wanted by the Turks." Setting down his chopsticks and wiping his face with the back of his hand, Zack stood, crossing his arms in front of his chest and striking an imposing figure indeed.

Reno wasn't worried. "Seems like I might as well collect Cloud while I'm here," he said with a casual shrug, then set his bags on the table next to them. "Given the situation, I'll get the order eventually, and being that I've got him right here in front of me as we speak, it'll save me having to hunt him down later." Shifting his weight onto one leg, he pulled his electro-mag rod out of its holster and slung it against his shoulder. With his rumpled suit, tattoos, red hair, and dangerous grin, most people would simply back away and let Reno do as he pleased.

But then again, Zack could hardly be classified as "most people." A careful look around the room revealed to the Soldier that the three of them were already being stared at, but due to their respective uniforms, any of the staff were too terrified to do anything. "Like hell I'm going to just let you waltz off with Cloud. He's not going to the war in Wutai, and that's final."

Cloud looked between the two men. "Zack, don't fight in here. People could get hurt," the blonde pleaded, moving closer to the other Soldier, blue eyes wide. He didn't protest when Zack's hand shot out to grab his arm and pull him protectively behind his larger form. "There are too many people here."

"I know, kiddo. I know." Zack grimaced, glancing around the room once more, watching the people watching him. He stared around the restaurant as the redhead tapped his foot impatiently. "Let's take this outside, Reno."

"No can do, Zack. You've got a reach advantage if I give you all that unobstructed space to swing around your meat cleaver." Without further warning, Reno let out his customary battle cry and charged the Soldier, electro-mag rod held high.

As predicted, the First-Class Soldier was more worried about getting Cloud out of the way. Pushing the blonde to the side, he unsheathed his Buster blade and swung it down in a quick arc, but the redhead danced back from the blow and the giant sword slammed into the flooring with a thunderous crack.

In the face of the first attack, the people of the restaurant had finally gathered their wits about them and began fleeing the scene, screaming and running for the exits. They dashed past the blonde, bumping into him and knocking him over, and Cloud decided to seek refuge under one of the tables in a booth on the back wall. Through the legs that ran past, the young Soldier could see Zack moving back, judging the room he had around him and capsizing tables when there wasn't enough.

The redhead was hot on his heels, though, darting this way and that around the would-be obstacles. Swerving to the side as a table came crashing down where he'd just been, he gripped the back of one of the chairs and used his momentum to swing it around toward Zack's face.

Dropping low, the chair flew harmlessly over Zack's head and crashed through a window behind him, but he hadn't entirely expected the foot that followed. He felt Reno's shoe graze his nose as he rolled backwards, coming once more to his feet and brandishing his Buster blade just in time to parry a rather electrified blow from Reno's EMR. Zack could feel the buzzing in his fingers, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling in response to the energy.

Mustering his strength, he pushed against the redhead's rod, throwing the smaller man backwards, and followed it with a powerful combination of arcs and slashes that sent Reno dancing on his heels. Lifting his sword above his head, Zack slammed it straight forward into the ground, sending a blade of energy hurtling toward the redhead.

Scrambling to the side, Reno narrowly avoided the attack, but the booth behind him wasn't so lucky. With a splintering crack, bits of wood flew and flooring split as Braver cut through it with ease.

"Throwing limit breaks around, are you?" the redhead asked, a smirk on his face and his electro-mag rod tapping against his shoulder. "Two can play that way, yo." A green glow began shining from the base of his rod, and he held it horizontally in front of him. A bright flash of light later, Zack found himself encased in a triangular barrier and unable to escape.

The redhead slouched toward Zack, moving around the Pyramid spell as if inspecting a newly-obtained trophy. "I was going to play nice, yo, but you had to go and pull a stunt like that. Don't worry: you won't be stuck in there forever. I'll be taking Cloud, though." Watching with amusement, the Turk chuckled as Zack soundlessly yelled inside the spell, pounding against the magical walls. "What? I can't hear you. You'll have to tell me later, yo!"

Turning on his heel, Reno found himself faced with the tip of Cloud's sword. Lifting an eyebrow with incredulity, the redhead stared at the blonde. "What do you think you're going to do with that, exactly, Strife?"

"I'm going to make you let Zack go," the blonde responded with a glare, shifting his gaze briefly to the form of Zack, brows furrowing. Before he could say anything else, however, he felt his arms being knocked up and something slamming into his side. Then a shock of immense pain… and nothing.

Reno caught the unconscious boy as he tipped forward, then slung him over his shoulder and holstered his EMR once again. Picking up his bags of food, he shot Zack his best shit-eating grin, and waltzed out of the restaurant, loudly and obnoxiously humming a victory theme as he went.


	10. Disappearing Act

Disclaimer: Oh, hell. It's about time I refreshed this disclaimer. xD I don't own any of the characters in Final Fantasy VII, nor do I make any profit from the writing of this story. The only things I own are the plot I created for this piece, and any characters I've specifically created for it. So don't sue me, Square. I've got no money, anyway. Oo

**What Little Boys Are Made Of**

Chapter 10: Disappearing Act

Days Until War: 4

It didn't occur to Zack until a bit after Reno left that he had actually _wanted _to see the redheaded Turk. Out of all the people that could have been at Mickey D's at that very moment, out of _all _the people that were hard to find when they didn't want to be found, and out of _all the people_ _he was trying to find right now_, the one he had most wanted to see had waltzed into his reach, and the Soldier had let him waltz right back out again. With Cloud in tow, nonetheless.

Boy, did he feel like some superior level of testosterone-induced, pride-enhanced, jealousy-spurred stupid right now, and it was a stupid that Cloud was about to pay for.

Angry at Reno, at Shin-Ra, at the world, and at himself most of all, Zack screamed into the small, confined space within the pyramid, screamed until he ran out of breath, the guttural sound echoing within it as a reminder to the black-haired Soldier how much he'd failed in his promise to the blonde. Spent, Zack sunk to his knees, blade falling to the ground beside him with a metallic _clank_ as he stared forlornly at the dirtied tiles of the floor.

He was silent for a moment, lost in his thoughts and self-loathing, until he came to a sudden realization: no, he hadn't failed the spiky blonde. Not _yet_. That was the key. Cloud was safe for the moment, he could feel it, and if he were to keep up his end, he had to find the boy and find him fast.

Lifting his head, newfound determination in his limbs, Zack gripped the hilt of his Buster blade and rose, a boyish grin on his face.

Oh, Reno, that little shit-eating bastard, would see... Zack _would_ protect Cloud. From Reno, from Shin-Ra, from the world. Even if it cost him his life.

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The ducts gave another ominous creak under his weight, and the small, black-haired First-Class Soldier found himself giving another silent prayer to whatever gods may have been listening that the cables didn't give out right then and there, sending him plummeting through the roof and to the floor below. Taking a long, slow and somewhat shaky breath to steady himself, Dante lifted his arm as best he could to wipe at the sweat dripping from his brow.

The air ducts were horribly hot and compact, making breathing difficult in areas, and carrying the heavy bag of cameras constantly left him with the fear that he would end up getting wedged somewhere and not be found until Shin-Ra employees started complaining about a particular stench coming from the ventilation system. The six-floor vertical climb hadn't been the easiest to deal with, either, and he'd had to push the bag up ahead of him while locking himself in place with only his booted feet braced against the thin, slippery metal walls of the ducts.

Regardless, he was alive at the moment, and he pushed forward, black eyes searching the ducts ahead for the next turn and ears peeled for hints of his current location. He'd passed the President's personal quarters not too terribly long ago, so his office shouldn't have been too far. Had he made a wrong turn or gotten turned around?

Dante frowned, wrinkling his nose, and squished himself to one side of the shaft, bending to glance back at the way he'd come from. His brows knit together as he contemplated retracing his steps, but then he mentally berated himself with the simple reminder that Sephiroth was counting on him. With a nod, he hauled himself around the next corner, continuing determinedly forward.

It wasn't long before he was rewarded with the sight of an exit. A silent sigh of relief poured out of him, and he quickly shuffled toward the dim stream of light flowing through it. Dante peered down the short drop and past the secured grate, almost surprised to find that President Shin-Ra was sitting at his desk with only the light from a single lamp and his computer screen to illuminate the room. He appeared to be typing away intently, so Dante took the opportunity to pull the bag of cameras closer, pulling one out and setting up the appropriate wiring. Getting a signal for the wireless transmitter was a bit more difficult, but after a bit of quiet shuffling, he found a suitable location and stuck it to the side of the shaft.

There were three ducts in total that exited into the President's suite, and he made sure to place a camera in each of them. Once the task was completed – with blessedly little difficulty – Dante fled the scene of the crime, backtracking his way to the lavatory from which he had entered.

--------------------  
--------------------

Rufus and Tseng were well aware of Reno's return, as the obnoxious singing of something that vaguely sounded like a victory march had found its way to their less-than-happy ears. The blonde Vice President raised an eyebrow, turning away from the computer screen momentarily to glance out the doorway.

"I might as well see what he's brought," Rufus muttered, rolling his eyes but somehow managing a small smile. "And maybe I can get him to shut up while I'm at it." After a quick nod of agreement from the stoic Turk, Rufus exited the room, heading toward the entryway, expecting fully to scold Reno as soon as he got there.

The words died on his lips, though, as soon as he saw the Turk. With the small form of a blonde Soldier balanced precariously on one hip and two bags of food on the other, Reno looked like he'd picked up a bit more than lunch.

"What the hell?" Rufus sputtered, not entirely sure what to think. "Is that Cloud? Where did you find him?" The blonde moved closer, bending slightly to get a better look at the boy before straightening and giving the redhead a critical eye. Whether or not he was impressed or angry was hard to tell.

"Came with the food, yo," was the redhead's response, followed by a cheeky grin and a wink. Brushing past Rufus and handing the blonde the bags of food as he did so, he moved into the living room and unceremoniously plunked Cloud down upon the couch. "Actually, he and Zack were on a steamy date. Footsy 'n' everything. Had to bring Cloud with me, 'else he might've got raped." Reno wiggled his eyebrows, as if this were somehow an invitation of some sort, and the white-clad blonde simply scoffed in response.

"I see. Well, this makes our job somewhat easier, I suppose," Rufus replied, crossing his arms and tilting his head to the side as he watched the Turk. Somehow he doubted that Zack would have handed over Cloud without a fight, but Reno seemed none the worse for wear. Rufus could really only speculate what must have occurred, and it wasn't pretty. "I suppose we should inform Tseng that—"

"I'm already well informed, Sir," the Wutanese man noted as he appeared from the hallway, much to the chagrin of the redhead and amusement of the blonde. Mild craning of his slender neck revealed the unconscious form of the blonde Soldier, and he put on a mild frown as he noted the boy's rather unresponsive state. Hopefully Cloud wouldn't be out for too much longer, as the sooner they explained things to him, the sooner they could gain his cooperation.

"I won't be able to retrieve any more information off the disc," the leader of the Turks continued, returning his cool gaze to the Vice President. "We'll have to rely on what Cloud can tell us, if he knows anything at all. The only other valuable source of information would likely be Zack, but given relations with him previously, I doubt that he'll be so willing to part with information unless we share with him what we know."

Reno let out a groan and ran a pale hand through his bright red hair in exasperation. "Are you seriously saying that I have to go back there and grab that damned Hedgehog? He's going to think I'm a dumbass, you know."

"Indeed," Rufus huffed, that simple exhalation of air somehow managing to convey the very clear, precise thought of "not that we're saying you aren't" without words. "But Tseng is right, Reno. Zack could be a valuable source of information. It would be wise of us to speak with him, and since we have Cloud now, he probably views us as his enemy."

Tseng grunted his agreement and Reno gave an almost childish pout, shifting his weight to one side and setting his hand on his hip in a rebellious gesture. "Can't we call Rude and get him to pick up Hedgehog on his way over, or something?"

Rufus shook his head, frowning, and similarly shifted his weight onto one leg, save the fact that his pose was far more reminiscent of one who was used to getting his way. "We need to have a contact at Shin-Ra in case something happens. You know that, Reno."

"Yeah, yeah. I know, I know. Just trying to keep some of my pride intact, yo. At least give me five minutes to stuff my face before I go." Indignantly marching back over to the blonde, he relieved the smug Rufus of the bags of food and headed into the kitchen for some plates. "Guy's gotta eat sometime."

Tseng looked at Rufus, who simply gave a resigned shrug, and the two men, oddly opposite in coloring, followed the redhead into the kitchen. Surely five minutes could be spared to keep the spunky Turk from starving while on duty.

-----------------  
-----------------

"Nhh," a hoarse voice whispered as the owner pulled himself out of unconsciousness, eyes opening to nothing but a dim, blurry haze of a white, stucco ceiling with a slowly rotating fan that was starting to make him feel ill with its incessant movement.

"Good morning," a masculine voice replied that distinctly did not belong to Zack.

Cloud bolted upright and immediately regretted it, his head swimming and vision spinning. There was a hand on his back then, pushing him to a sitting position and supporting him. "No need to rush yourself, Cloud," the voice said again, seeming just above and behind him.

The blonde slowly tilted his head back, settling his gaze upon a hazy white figure that was leaning over the back of a ... couch?... toward him. He blinked a few times, and the figure became a bit clearer. Rubbing his eyes helped a bit more, and when he opened his eyes once more, he was finally able to clearly see that he was being peered at with eyes that were as blue as his own.

"Rufus?!" Cloud asked, startled, and pitched away from the other blonde. He promptly landed on the floor, but luckily the pile of blankets Reno had left behind cushioned his fall. The Soldier scrambled to his feet, flinging blankets this way and that in his haste, and soon coming to the conclusion that the familiar weight of his sword and gun were gone.

Rufus sighed irritably at the overblown reaction. "Calm down, Strife. I'm not going to kill you. I'm not even going to hurt you. As a matter of fact, I'm going to help you, so I would appreciate a bit less of a melodramatic reaction."

"Where's Zack?" the youth asked, as if he hadn't even heard anything that Rufus had said. Right now, he had no idea where he was, how he'd gotten here, or where his best friend was, or even if he was alright, never mind alive.

"He'll be here shortly," the Vice President said, turning as the door behind him made the distinct clicking sound of being unlocked. "Ah, Reno, you're just in..." The blonde trailed to a stop, eyeing the Turk. "Where's Zack?" He raised an eyebrow as he stared at the redhead, who was definitely NOT in the presence of any black-haired First-Class Soldiers as he certainly should have been if he'd done his job right.

The red-haired Turk grinned sheepishly, raising his hand to fiddle with his goggles nervously as he dug the toe of his shoe into the welcome mat at his front door. "Well. About that. He was gone when I went back. Seriously, I had him in my Pyramid spell and everything! Should've lasted until I got back, that's for damn sure. Mind you, Hedgehog's pretty determined... Sorry 'bout that, Boss."

Both Cloud and Rufus stared at Reno for a long time, neither particularly impressed, but for entirely different reasons. Cloud spoke first, having remembered the events from earlier that day. "You attacked us, put Zack in that weird spell thing, and then electrocuted me!"

The other blonde held up his hand to silence the first. "That's not important right now, Cloud. We need to find Zack so we can speak with the both of you about this whole situation. There's no sense in getting mad at Reno for something that can't be undone."

Cloud frowned, but nodded after a moment. Although he wasn't particularly fond of either Rufus or Reno at this moment, he was aware that the bigger picture was more important than small squabbles. "He... probably went back to find Rude."

At mention of their bald-headed companion, Rufus snapped Reno an "I told you so" look and looked back at Cloud. "Why's that?"

"He asked Rude for Reno's address once, but we ended up in the middle of nowhere."

Reno grinned, clapping his hand on his thigh. "Booya! Go, Rude!" he exclaimed with a laugh, obviously quite thrilled with the fact that his partner had sent the two Soldiers on a wild goose chase. This earned him glares from both Cloud and Rufus.

"I'll call Rude and tell him to send Zack over here," Tseng said, pulling his cell phone out his pocket.

Everyone's gaze whipped over to the Wutanese Turk. Somehow, he had managed to materialize out of nowhere again. Cloud blinked and leaned towards Rufus. "Where did he come from?" the Soldier asked quietly, eyes wide.

Rufus simply shook his head. "Sometimes I think it's better not to ask."


	11. Initiative

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in Final Fantasy VII, nor do I make any profit from the writing of this story.

I'm sorry for taking so long to update! But, look! I'm back at it!

**What Little Boys Are Made Of**

Chapter 11: Initiative

Days Until War: 4

By the time he had returned to Shin-Ra Headquarters, Zack was still cursing himself for his stupidity back at the diner. At least, after much angry brooding over the incident, he had determined the exact point at which his brain had switched off: the moment Reno had laid his hand on Cloud.

For whatever reason, that simple action had sent bitter jealousy coursing through his blood and spurred him into a pointless battle for domination, which he had subsequently lost, and then lost possession of his young friend in the process. Honestly, he was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. And the worst part was that he knew that if Cloud had been any of his other buddies, things wouldn't have degraded to such a point. His want to protect the boy had actually caused them trouble.

...Protect, or monopolize? Letting out a troubled sigh, Zack shook his head. He didn't have time to worry about the subtle nuances of his relationship with Cloud. The fact remained that his friend had been kidnapped by the Turks, which meant he would need to get in touch with another Turk to find out what the situation was.

It was already late afternoon, nearly five o'clock, and he prayed that Rude was still in his office. Jogging down the hallway toward the General Affairs Department, he rounded the corner into the "lobby", and then skidded to a halt so quickly, he was sure he had left marks on the carpet. He flung his arms into the air as a gesture of surrender, eyes wide, as he stared at the secretary before him. And the sharpened letter opener that was pointed at his throat.

"D-Delilah! What a pleasant surprise!" the black-haired Soldier greeted, trying to sound cheery and not at all intimidated. Honestly, though, with the look the woman was giving him, he could almost feel his testosterone, along with his courage, shrinking to nothing. "I thought you would have gone home by now."

"I do not go home until Mr. Tseng has returned safely," she dangerously intoned, inching the dagger-like object closer to Zack's throat. "You are causing trouble here and disturbing the peace. What do you want?"

_Holy shit. Talk about devoted employee. _Zack swallowed, then lowered his arms slowly, carefully placing one hand over the hand that was clutching the mail opener. "I swear, I'm not here to cause trouble. I met Reno, he took my friend, and I'm just trying to find out where they've gone. That's all. I'm not here to inconvenience Tseng at all. I swear. Soldier's honor!"

He was scrutinized for another moment before Delilah's eyes dropped to the hand that was resting upon her own. She glared at it silently before the Soldier suddenly got the hint and pulled his hand back so quickly, one might have thought that the Turks' secretary had burst into flames. Turning on her heel, which was impressive, given that she was practically wearing stilettos, Delilah stalked back to her desk and picked up a note that was sitting upon it, holding it out to Zack. "Take it, and go."

"Huh?" he asked intelligently, closing the distance between himself and the frightening secretary with a few insecure strides. Plucking the piece of paper from her grasp, he blinked at it. On it was a single address, quickly scratched on the paper with heavy strokes. "What's this?"

"I do not make a habit of reading documentation that is given to me, unless it is meant for my eyes," Delilah replied, sounding horribly offended at the implication that she might be a snoop. "Mr. Rude gave it to me, and I'm giving it to you, as instructed. Now get out. You don't have an appointment."

"But I need to speak with Rude and find out what is going on! What am I supposed to do with this address?" Zack protested, spreading his arms out wide in a hopeless gesture. Currently, the only ones that seemed to have any information about what was going on were the Turks, and obviously Rude had received communication of some sort from either Tseng or Reno or someone else in-the-know. Otherwise, why would the bald man have left this mysterious note for Zack and gone off somewhere else?

"An address? Then maybe you should use your _brain_. Obviously you have somewhere you need to be," she scolded, gesturing at the small clipping of paper that was still held carelessly in Zack's hand. "Mr. Rude wants you to go, so you should shut your mouth and get going. Maybe your friend is there."

The black-haired man paused in his whining and immediately brightened. "Delilah, you're a _genius_," he beamed, leaning forward abruptly and planting a juicy kiss on the secretary's cheek before spinning around and bolting for the exit. "I owe you!" he yelled back with a wave, running at full speed down the hallway towards the parkade.

Meanwhile, a very stunned and very livid Delilah was screaming in rage in her office at the injustice of being unable to kill certain annoying Shin-Ra employees.

**~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~oOo~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~**

"This has gone on long enough." Obviously agitated, the wiry scientist paced back and forth in the President's office, one hand pushing a greasy strand of black hair out of his face, the other clenched tightly behind his back as he continued to wear ruts into the carpet in his typical, stooped fashion. "Rufus is no longer in the building, that much is clear. Cloud is no longer on the premises, either. Lucien is working on tracking them down, but why haven't _you _found them yet? Don't you know where your son would go to hide out?"

"Shut up, Hojo," the President growled, having grown tired of people questioning his authority and his competence. "Why doesn't Heron supply more people to activate the runt, hmm? Having Lucien simply isn't enough, it seems."

Hojo snorted at the mere suggestion, laughing at the incredulity of it. "Lucien volunteered for this. We're all scientists, not field agents. We have your resources for that sort of work."

Not really pleased about being so blatantly used, the President still managed to ignore that last statement in favour of something more curious. "Volunteered?" he asked, prying into the mystery that was Heron's representative in this experiment.

"Some trifling matter with his brother," the scientist explained, albeit rather vaguely, lifting his hand in a dismissive wave to indicate that the matter wasn't important. "Don't bother with it. Just make sure that Rufus isn't spreading information around. The last thing we need is to have our operations in Junon compromised because your boy can't keep his mouth shut."

Stepping towards the doorway, both hands clasped behind his back now, Hojo looked back over his shoulder at the maroon-clad man, a sneer on his lips. "Put a leash on him, Shin-Ra. Having such an unruly son reflects badly on the gene pool." With that, the scientist stepped out into the hallway, letting the door slide closed behind him.

**~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~oOo~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~**

To say that Sephiroth's interest was piqued would have been an understatement. In just five minutes of espionage, he had learned more from President Shin-Ra and Hojo than he probably ever would have gotten by simply barging into the office and interrogating the two of them, even at swordpoint.

What was even more interesting was the mention of this "Heron", and the power it seemed to hold over Shin-Ra. Surely in most situations, if a subordinate had dared speak in such an irreverent and condescending manner to the President of Shin-Ra, he would be taken away and quietly executed. Hojo, however, seemed to get away with whatever he liked, and also seemed to be in league with Heron, judging by his use of the word "we".

A low sound rumbled from his throat as he mulled over this new information, and he crossed one leg over the other, setting his elbow on his kitchen table, where he currently had his surveillance equipment set up, and resting his chin in his palm. Bright green eyes were fixed on the small television, his free hand cupping the earpiece of the headphones he wore as he watched the President get up from his desk and exit the office.

Lucien… Lucien… The name sounded familiar, but he could not put his finger on it. It was like something from a distant memory that was too clouded by age to remember correctly. Likely, it would be one of those things where if it was just left alone, it would surface in its own time.

Pulling the headphones off and running his fingers through his hair to get rid of any tangles that would have been caused by the burdensome headgear, he pushed the metal chair back and stood. Long strides took him to the kitchen counter, where he filled the kettle with water and set it onto its base, flicking the switch to turn it on. Turning, Sephiroth put his hips against the counter and folded his arms across his broad chest as he thought about what facts he could deduce from the conversation.

First, that Hojo was working for Heron. He was likely high up the ladder, given that he had pretty much free-reign within Shin-Ra. Secondly, Cloud was one of their experiments. If the President was working in conjunction with Heron, then sending Cloud to war must actually be the wishes of Heron, and not Shin-Ra. Precisely what "activating" him meant, Sephiroth could not speculate, but he could assume that it was something that was supposed to help Shin-Ra win the war. Third, Rufus apparently already knew more about this than he should, and was therefore on the chopping block, which would explain his disappearance and his father's sudden want to find him.

In addition, it could also be assumed that if Heron had operations in Junon, they would also have operations in Midgar, in order to be closer to the main branch of Shin-Ra, and it was then also likely that those operations were either on or very close to the Shin-Ra grounds. Given all this, Heron was obviously a medical company of some sort, the most probable being genetic modification.

Furthermore, there was someone named Lucien on the hunt for Cloud, which meant that both he and Zack would be in trouble. Certainly, it was time to check up with his black-haired comrade.

Retrieving his cell phone from his right pants pocket, Sephiroth quickly dialled Zack's number from memory, waiting. One ring. Two. A third.

"Hi, this is Zack Fair!" the happy-go-lucky voice sprang up from the speaker. "I'm out and about right now, so you'll have to leave me a message. I'll get back to you as soon as I can! Just make sure you tell me your name and phone number, okay? Ciao!"

Sephiroth grimaced, wondering what could possibly cause Zack to not answer his call. Hopefully, the First-Class Soldier hadn't run into any trouble that he couldn't handle. Regardless of the situation, he had promised to help, so he dutifully left his message. "Zack. It's Sephiroth. There are a lot of things that we need to discuss, but not over the phone. Just know that there's a man named Lucien targeting Cloud with the intent to do something to him that might not be reversible. Keep your eye on him and get back here as soon as you can." There was a long pause as the silver-haired general contemplated his next words. "If you find Rufus along the way, ask him what Heron is."

He pulled the phone away from his ear and snapped it shut, effectively ending the call. Zack was quickly becoming a master at making Sephiroth worry, and the general did not like it one bit. There wasn't much more he could do other than simply wait for his friend to return. Leaving Shin-Ra headquarters to search for him was out of the question for various reasons, and he wasn't about to start stalking the President in the hopes of picking up more information. Having suspicion fall on his shoulders would likely warrant a search of his belongings, which would undoubtedly reveal his espionage.

Since such a thing was impermissible, the silver-haired warrior had little choice but to simply pour himself a cup of coffee and wait. His water has just finished boiling, anyway.

**~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~oOo~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~**

"My decision is final," Rufus announced, stubbornly lifting his chin in the manner of a haughty prince demanding nothing but the finest.

Reno sighed, lifting his hands in a shrug. "Come on, yo. We can't do that properly in here. We'll wreck something, and I don't want stains all over my upholstery." The Turk shifted to lean against the wall, cheeks still flushed, his hand resting at the waistline of the towel wrapped around his hips.

"Find somewhere suitable, then," was the blonde's response, said in such a tone that it could not be contradicted. "My well-being is more important than your furniture."

"_What_ is going on in here?" Tseng had appeared from their temporary office, his arms hung stiffly by his sides and a look of consternation was quickly spreading across his face as he observed the young blonde and the scantily-clad Turk. Surely there had to be some logical explanation for the scandalous conversation he had been unfortunate enough to overhear. If there wasn't, two people would be going in "time out".

Reno huffed, feeling indignant about the whole thing. "Rufus wants me to teach him how to use a shotgun _in my house. _I just got out of the shower and I don't want myself and my house to be covered in gunpowder and bullet holes." The Turk noted with confusion that Tseng seemed vaguely relieved to hear this, but he continued anyway. "He also happened to pick the _one gun _that I don't have stashed away somewhere in this house, yo. You talk some sense into him."

Shaking his head, the Wutanese Turk turned to the Vice President. "Sir, we currently do not have sufficient facilities to teach you how to use a firearm. We would need a practice range, targets, and most of all, a shotgun and ammunition. I appreciate your willingness to learn how to defend yourself, so please do not take this as rejection; however, should an opportunity present itself at a later date, I will oversee your training myself."

Seeing that Rufus seemed appeased by this solution, Tseng moved on to the next topic at hand. "Where is Cloud?"

"He's in the bathroom," Rufus explained. "Learning that you're wanted by a genetics engineering company because you're some scientific experiment is a lot to deal with."

"No shit. He's still young, too. Definitely would fuck up your day."

"Moving on, Reno, keep an eye on Cloud and make sure he doesn't try to run off until Zack gets here. Rufus, there's something you need to see." Tseng strode back into the office, obviously intending for the Vice President to follow him, and then gestured at the chair as soon as the blonde entered. "Please take a seat, sir."

Rufus' brow furrowed as he sat himself in the computer chair and faced the laptop. A document was up on the screen. He assumed that it was one of the many files that Tseng had managed to retrieve from the DVD he had partially burned. It looked like a legal document of some sort.

"This will be distressing news, sir, but please wait until I have finished summarizing before you comment." Rufus merely nodded, eyes fixed on the screen, and Tseng continued, "This is a will. It is your uncle's, to be precise. Dated twenty-three years ago. From what I have been able to discern from these documents, your uncle, Howard James Shin-Ra, was the original founder of the Shin-Ra Electric Power Company. He was also the founder of Heron.

"Five years before you were born, he switched his prioritization to Heron, and left your father to run Shin-Ra. I am not sure of his reasons for doing so, but herein lies the problem: this will states that, in the event of his death, the Shin-Ra Electric Power Corporation and all of its assets will go to Heron, which is run by a Board of Directors and a President, much like Shin-Ra. There is the stipulation that your father was to remain as President of Shin-Ra, but there is nothing written about what will happen to the company when your father dies."

"And my uncle died before I was born, which leaves me shit out of luck, so to speak," Rufus finished for him, his lips pulled into a thin line, his hands gripping the armrests of the chair until his knuckles turned white.

"I'm very sorry, sir." There wasn't much more to say. What more _could _be said? Rufus had just found out that his future had been taken away from him before he was even born, and everything he had worked for up until this point in his life was moot. "If it is any consolation, the Turks will continue to stand by your side."

Suddenly, a two-tone laugh escaped the ousted Shin-Ra heir, and a twisted smirk played upon his face. Turning his head to look up at the Wutanese Turk, Rufus' eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, and for a moment, Tseng thought that the young blonde had lost his sanity. "Don't give your condolences yet, Tseng. This fight is far from over. All this means is that I have to work a little harder to earn my inheritance."

"Sir?" The question was tentative.

"It's simple, Tseng. I'm going to bring down Heron."


End file.
